


Cheap Thrills

by S_R_Willows



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Dark, Miraculous Ladybug - Freeform, Other, Romance, superhero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-14 22:05:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 31,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19282114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_R_Willows/pseuds/S_R_Willows
Summary: NYCFifteen Years Later -  The Year 2034There are now miraculous superheroes in every major city on the planet and Chat Noir is the elected leader of them all.  Yet despite this feat, Chat Noir is just a broken man trying to move past the death of Ladybug.  And it doesn't help that his fifteen-year-old daughter is the spitting image of her. Then, he meets a girl and suddenly: she's all he can think about. However, Chat Noir is terrified of loving again for fear he might lose her. What will he do?Emma has always wanted to make her father happy but it is unfortunately out of her control. Ever since her mother's death when she was just an infant, her father has apparently never been the same. So when she is offered the Bee miraculous, she takes this as a chance to loosen her father's burden.Coccinelle is running from her past. She finally found a way to break free from her tyrant adoptive parents and has made it across the sea, into the United States. Then, everything changes when she is attacked by a notorious villain called the phantom and then saved by the famous hero Chat Noir.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for giving my story a chance! As I stated in the description and details, this is a fan-fiction and so in no way do I own Miraculous Ladybug and any of the original characters. I do own the characters I created though so please, don't copy my work. 
> 
> With that being said, you don't need to watch Miraculous Ladybug in order to understand the story. However, it was brought to my attention that background information might be helpful so I decided to write this summary. 
> 
> Miraculous Ladybug is a fairly new French superhero kids cartoon. It takes place in modern-day Paris and centers around two protagonists: a teenaged girl named Marinette Dupain Cheng whose superhero alias is Ladybug and a teenaged boy named Adrien Agreste whose superhero alias is Chat Noir. 
> 
> Together they fight to stop Hawkmoth ( the main villain so far) and his Akumas ( which are people who are at a vulnerable emotional state and are possessed and given superpowers.) 
> 
> Now, here is the confusing part. Marinette, Adrien, and Hawkmoth's powers all come from something called a kwami which a little spirit animal creature. Marinette's is a ladybug named Tikki while Adrien's is a black cat named plagg. Hawkmoth's is a butterfly name Naru I believe. 
> 
> In order to harness their power, they have miraculouses ( which are the magical objects that hold the power) and say a certain phrase. Marinette's miraculous is a pair of red earrings while Adrien's is a silver ring with a green paw print on it. 
> 
> There are two specific phrases they have to say as well, in order to become a superhero. For Marinette, she says " Spots On" to turn into Ladybug and " Spots Off" to transform back into her herself. Chat says a similar thing but his is Claws Out. 
> 
> At the end of season one ( I have not watched the new season yet) we also find out how Marinette and Adrien received their Miraculouses from an old man named Master Fu who is the miraculous holder or the turtle but is too old to fight. 
> 
> The best part of the whole show ( in my opinion) though is the love square between Marinette and Adrien. You see, Marinette likes Adrien but Adrien/ who is Chat Noir likes Ladybug. However, Chat Noir and Ladybug have no idea who their real identities are in order to protect them. So, it's basically a circle of unrequited love that's adorable but at the same time annoying. Others thing to know would be that Alya is Marinette's best friend and Nino is Adrien's. The other kids in their class, as well as the adults and family in their life, are also important but I will mention them as they appear in the story. 
> 
> Again, I have not watched the second season yet and will give an update once I've watched it. :) 
> 
> Hopefully, this summary helps the story make more sense. 
> 
> Let me know if you have any questions! 
> 
> Thanks for reading, 
> 
> S.R.Willows

Song for This Chapter: 

Cheap Thrills - Sia 

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nYh-n7EOtMA>

 

Narrator's Point of View

Her ruby bracelet glimmers brightly in the street lamplight, just begging someone to rob her. In fact, her whole outfit screams "rob me". She is dressed as if to go a fancy ball or gala wearing a velvet midnight-black sweetheart ball gown with blood red rubies adoring her neck and wrists. Her purse, a pure silver coach, is filled to the brim with money. She is a walking fortune. Which is dangerous, especially in the heart of the Bronx, New York City.

But the girl seems not to care. She makes no move to conceal her jewelry or purse, wears no expression of concern or fear. Even as day fades into the night with the sun sinking in the sky, painting the sky with orange, pink, and purple stripes. She pays no attention to anything and this makes her an easy target for a notorious criminal called the Phantom.

The phantom watches her with a devilish smirk. She is the perfect victim, he thinks. He could get a fancy price for the rubies and the silver coach and that's not even including its contents plus: the ultimate prize, the girl herself.

He could use her as a bargaining chip because men are dogs and will do almost anything when confronted with a beautiful woman. And this one is exquisite in the phantom's opinion. Her features are unusual: inky black spun hair with silver strands, porcelain skin, rose-colored lips, and stormy gray-purple eyes, she almost resembled Disney's Snow White the phantom thought to himself.

Of course, the phantom is not the only one to recognize the girl's unusual beauty. Many city-dwellers she passes stop and stare, mouths wide open, eyes glistening with awe. To them, she is too good to be true, an angel or goddess or even an extraterrestrial being. She does not notice their glorifying stares as she hurries down the uneven sidewalk in her red pumps.

Up above, in the shadows stands a figure with luminescent green eyes and cat ears, observing the phantom, who is too absorbed with the girl to notice him.

The girl makes it to a crosswalk at this point, stopping in front of a glaring red "Do Not Walk" sign. She takes this moment to catch her breath and reaches into her purse and pulls out a small device. A cell phone. She presses a button and the screen slowly awakens and she studies it, still oblivious to her surroundings.

The Phantom takes this as his chance and leaps swiftly across the rooftops of abandon office buildings until he reaches the edge near the crosswalk. The girl now stands below him, shifts uncomfortably, blister forming on her feet because of her killer heels. He hesitates for a moment, slowing his erratic heartbeat. Then, he jumps, at least a hundred stories, maybe more. The fall would have killed a normal human but the phantom is no normal human. Maybe not even a human, as some rumors go.

In a few minutes, he lands softly on the balls of his feet, just behind the girl. She is still looking at her phone, a google map of the Bronx displayed. A tear slides silently down her cheek but wipes it away quickly. She stands up straight to see if the sign has changed.

It does and a pure white "Walk" sign flashes and the girl begins to hurry across. White-gloved hands grab her arms and she struggles but ends up back on the sidewalk, in the pitch black ally. The girl struggles against the phantom but his grip is like stone. Surprisingly, though, she doesn't scream for help. She continues her own private struggle until she slumps realizing its futile.

"Where do you think you're going precious?" phantom taunts, pulling her close to him.

She glances up at him blankly, straining to see him but all she can make out is a pair of cold ocean- blue eyes. Sadness and pity fill her heart to see such eyes devoid of life she can hardly imagine the cause. If only this world was not so cruel, she thinks to herself. Then, maybe his eyes would be full of light and warmth. But that is not the world they live in.

Sighing, the girl realizes there is only way out of her situation. Give him what he wants. Quickly, she removes her ruby adornments, parting gifts from her stepsister, and places them gently in her silver coach.

She holds out the bag to him, "Here."

The white glove hand loosens its grip on her, taking a step back. His blue eyes widen and he covers his mouth in shock. The phantom is speechless; the only noise is his heartbeat.

After a few more minutes of awkward silence, the girl speaks up, "Are you going to take my purse or not? Its want you want, is it not?"

Instantly, the phantom snaps out of his reverie and gives her a devilish smirk that sends butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

"What makes you think I only want your stuff?" the phantom asks.

The girl raises her eyebrows in confusion, "What else could you want?"

He leans into her, his figure towering over her petite one. His face, so close that he could kiss her if he wanted to. Aware of this, the girl backs up, a cherry blush covering her cheeks. The phantom's grin widens at her discomfort and moves closer.

She takes a step back, suddenly uncomfortable. He moves closer. The dance continues until the girl is against the brick wall of the alley. She shivers in fear and looks left and right, searching for a way out but he is too close.

She had never had a man (besides her stepfather) this close to her before and it was terrifying. What does he want from her? Why is he making her so uncomfortable? Who Cares?

Get a grip, she scolds herself.

"Don't even think about running. I will just catch you again," he warns her unexpectedly.

The girl's legs start to shake but she balls her fists and meets his gaze, trying to be strong. This girl is no coward, after all.

"What do you want from me?" she demands.

"Isn't it obvious?" he says, bringing his white-gloved hand to her face.

Instinctively, the girl leans her face closer to the warmth of his touch. Then, realizing what she's doing, the girl straightens herself, moving away from him. She blushes deeper and for the first time tonight, she is glad she is in a dark alley.

"What are you doing?" she questions, her voice cracking.

"Do you always ask this many questions?" he muses, more to himself than to her.

He caresses her face with his thumb and moves his face closer to hers. They are now breathing the same air and she smells a hint of mint coming from him. Her breathing hitches, alarm bells going off in her head: Is he going to kiss her? A complete stranger? The answer comes with the brush of his soft lips against hers. The spark is undeniable, a warm tingling feeling igniting each of their hearts. However, this girl is also completely terrified and does the only natural thing in this situation, protect herself.

She kicks him where the sun doesn't shine. The phantom doubles over in pain, grunting. Taking this as her chance to escape, she runs towards the street. But she is no match for the phantom's insane speed and next thing she knows, he is blocking the exit. Gasping in surprise she pivots to run the other way and crashes right into his muscled chest.

How did he move so fast? she questions, backing up.

"I thought I told you it was pointless to run," he snarls, a fire in his eyes. Tears cloud her eyes and she falls to her knees, her black dress pooling around her.

"Please, let me go," she begs no louder in a whisper.

"Never, princess. You're mine." The phantom declares, grabs her arms tightly and jolts her to her feet.

"I don't think so phantom," a deep menacing voice says from the shadows of the alleyway.

The phantom groans, tossing the girl aside and looks down the alleyway, eyes prowling for the source of the voice.

"Who's there? Come out, you coward!" Phantom shouts.

There is no answer but suddenly there a loud CRACK of bones breaking. Phantom howls, grabbing his nose.

CRACK! SMACK! THUMP!

The mysterious figure continues landing blows on the phantom with the girl looking on wide-eyed. The only thing she could tell about this stranger is that he has beautiful emerald eyes that glint like a cat's. The girl wants to bolt right then but something glues her to the spot. The pummeling continues.

"Damn," phantom mumbles wiping the blood from his mouth. It's hard to fight someone you can't see. He tries to throw a punch himself but misses the figure cloaked in darkness by mere seconds.

CRACK!

The cloaked figure lands another blow to the phantom but this time to his ribs. The Phantom feels a stabbing pain and suddenly decides he's had enough.

"I'll come back for you princess," he rasps and in a bright flash of light, he vanishes.

The girl blinks her long eyelashes in surprise, "What just happened?"

"Damn it. He's gone." someone curses.

Remembering the mysterious presence in the dark, the girl slowly begins to back away. Sure, he had just saved her from blue eyes (her nickname for phantom) but how could she know this person didn't have the same intentions? The girl didn't want to take any chances and got ready to run.

"Please, don't run," a deep masculine voice pleads, a pair of green eyes suddenly looking at her.

She stops moving but readies herself to fight him with her purse if he tries anything.

"I didn't mean to frighten you. I'm sorry. I'm Chat Noir," he continues, his voice soft.

She lowers her purse, realizing that if he really wanted to hurt her, he would have done it already since he easily defeated blue eyes, who was a huge man. Besides the fact that he just saved her from being kidnapped. She owes him her gratitude.

"Sorry, I thought you were going to hurt me too. Thank you so much for saving me from that man," she says, eyes downcast.

"Don't apologize. I don't blame you for running. After all, you almost got kidnapped," Chat Noir chuckles, giving her a brilliant smile that seemed to light up the alley.

The girl blushes and shakes her head, still embarrassed.

"I don't know what I was thinking. I should have fought harder. I just thought he wanted my stuff. If I wasn't so stupid, I wouldn't have caused you so much trouble" she blubbers, tears welling in her eyes.

"Don't cry, M'Lady. What you did was natural. He probably did want your stuff but he also wanted YOU," Chat Noir he reassures her, picking up her discarded phone and handing it to her.

"Me?" the girl squeaks sheepishly taking the phone.

"Yes. The phantom often kidnaps pretty girls for his own benefit and for making deals in the underground," Chat Noir replies.

She scowls then, her perfect red lips marred.

Her pretty, what a joke! she thinks to herself. But the blue eye man's name is Phantom. What a weird name.

"Me? Pretty? Huh, that's a first," she finally says, chuckling to herself.

Chat Noir gives her a quizzical look, almost as if she had just spawned three heads. How could she not think she was pretty? Chat Noir thought. You would have to be blind not realize that!

"Why is he called "phantom" and how would I benefit him, would he sell me or something?" the girl questions before Chat could even begin to tell her how beautiful she is.

"He is called phantom because he can vanish into thin air like a ghost and since we don't know his real identity, we call him that. One thing for sure is that he is a dangerous criminal who could've sold you like cattle or worse M'Lady. But don't worry, I am here now. I'll protect you," he declares, bowing, taking her hand and placing a chaste kiss on it.

The girl's cheeks glow crimson and Chat smiles, finding her blushing cute.

"Well, I guess I am in debt to you. Thank you Mr....." she trails off and then facepalms herself. She forgot her hero's name.

Chat Noir laughs at this and fills in the blank for her, "Chat Noir."

She nods, repeating "Chat Noir" firmly in her head.

By accident, she murmurs "Chat Noir" out loud and the leather-clad man responds; "Yes, M'Lady?"

Her throat runs dry with embarrassment,

"Sorry. I was just trying to remember your name."

Chat chuckles, "It is fine M' Lady. I don't want you forgetting a handsome face like me, do I? But, if you don't mind me asking, what are you doing out in this part of New York at this time of night?"

The girl opens her mouth to say something but then suddenly closes it, her brow furrows in confusion. Why is she out of at this time at night? She couldn't remember. She is obviously here for a reason as she looks down at her black satin ball gown, but she was so scared of the man with piercing blue eyes and white gloves that she forgot.

Flashes of a middle-aged blond woman with cold blue eyes throwing dishes at her runs through her mind. It is probably who she is running away from, but she can't remember who the woman was, let alone why she's running from her.

Another scene flashes before her but this one has a man with a thick black mustache holding a knife, smirking down at her. Shattering glass, smoke, and fire, darkness, surround her suffocating her. She couldn't recall it from her memory of what happened but she could feel the pain in her heart.

She began to shake and become unsteady on her feet.

Chat Noir realizing something is wrong steps closer," Are you ok?"

The girl looks up at him, her eyes shining with fresh tears. It's a simple question, the girl told herself. Is she ok? But she didn't know, she has these awful flashes of memory but she couldn't remember her life at all before tonight and it terrifies her.

One thing was certain despite her "identity" crisis: the girl is dead on her feet. Luckily, Chat Noir catches her just before she collapses of exhaustion. Cradling her gently, he looks deeply into her face.

The girl is extraordinarily beautiful with a heart-shaped face and black hair and silver strands intertwined in it. Unfortunately, it reminds him too much of his lady. Not just the face and hair but the same innocence and kindness showing through the girl's violet eyes. It broke his heart.

He extends his baton and leaps off into the night, carrying the sleeping girl bridal style, leaving behind thoughts of his Lady, thoughts that might eat him alive. He is a Superhero after all and he has a job to do.

And so the incident fades into the moonless night, the quiet returning to the streets of New York City. Or at least as quiet as New York is at night. Alarms and gunshots still ring off here and there, but this is New York we are talking about. However, Chat Noir and the elegant girl vanish into the shadows of the night, all but forgotten.

Except of course, by me, I am the narrator after all. I am not that important though. Anyway, the whole ordeal seems to be behind Chat Noir, he vows secretly never to let his "Angel" (his words, not mine) near phantom again. Of course, little does he know, that phantom is the least of his problems. In fact, he is only the beginning.


	2. The Haunting Angel

Song For This Chapter: Angel - Theory of a Deadman

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n2bLn24sjdM>

Chat Noir Point of View

I walk into the hotel room with a plate full of camembert a box of plain pizza and I sigh, she is exactly how I left her. Her tiny body looking even smaller in the king size bed, her face peaceful and serene, only marred by the bags still prominent under her eyes.

Even with them, she is beautiful. Delicate, heavenly, and pure, like an angel... Stop that! I scold myself. The only one for me is my Lady and she is gone. Suddenly, the hole in my heart pulses and it becomes hard to breathe. The old pain threatens to cave me in but I push it away. I have a job to do. That job being the pretty unconscious girl in the bed who could pass for dead except for the rise and fall of her chest.

Three days have passed since that night on the street and she still hasn't woken up. Worry gnaws at me but Max, my personal doctor and loyal friend, said she's fine, just extremely exhausted with a broken wrist and bruised ribs. He also said he would come back tomorrow if she didn't wake up by then but I couldn't help it, I'm worried. I walk over and pull a chair to her bedside and plop down.

"You will be just fine, " I reassure her but I think I say it more to reassure myself.

After all, there are a lot of unknowns in her case. I have no idea who she is and what she was doing in the seedy part of Brooklyn. She clearly didn't belong there in her full-length ball-gown and ruby pendants. She was a walking target to all the thugs out there.

What was more worrying though was why? Why would a seemingly well-off girl be wandering alone at night in one of the most dangerous parts of New York City? The only two things that made sense was that she's some type of criminal or a lost tourist?

Right now, I'm leaning more to the lost tourist scenario because Phantom didn't recognize her and he is one of the main ringleaders in crime. In fact, he was like an infatuated puppy, his eyes all glazed over and a goofy smirk playing on his face. I remember how bad I wanted to smack that look off his face, Phantom was never up to any good and I didn't want this poor girl to fall victim to him.

What was really concerning though why she was so unhealthy and beaten up? Max informed me after examining her that she was severely underweight, sleep-deprived, and littered all over with day old bruises. She had broken at least twelve bones in the past few years, definite signs of domestic abuse, but we won't know for sure until she wakes up.

I rise out of my chair and whisper, "Claws off."

For a second, a bright green light blinds me and then my Kwami flies out.

"Cheese!!" he screeches and I laugh and point over to the table and he flies off, eating all the cheese he can fit his tiny mouth.

I shake my head at my food-minded Kwami and walk into the bathroom to get a shower since I smelled of camembert. Turning the water on, I begin to undress. Before I became Chat, I was wearing a tux because I was representing my father's fashion company, Agreste Co. since my father disappeared and he left the company to me in his will.

Luckily, I didn't really have to do much with the help of my Co- CEO and assistant Toby, who had been able to keep the company running successfully without any issues. This gave me the chance to pursue a doctorate in physics and get a research position at Columbia University and serve as a professor. Also, it helped me adjust to fatherhood and the death of my lady. Honestly, I don't know what I would have done without him after my lady died...

I shut the water off and step out of the shower.

I need to get a grip.

She's dead and no amount of grief will change that. This is twice today that I've thought of her. No more. Roughly, I dry myself off and pull out a pair of black jeans and a green tee-shirt, an extra set I have when on duty as Chat.

Facing myself in the mirror I scowl at my reflection, strands of my hair are sticking out in all directions. I try to tame my hair with my comb, pushing it to the side but quickly give-up, frustrated by the process. At this point in my life, I should have a receding hairline with gray hairs and maybe have a small beer gut since I am forty. But annoyingly, I somehow stopped aging at twenty-two.

So I look more like a young college student-athlete with a six-pack and golden hair. To most people this wouldn't be a bad thing, but not when you are a father of a fifteen-year-old girl and people her age try to flirt with me. Or worse, their moms'. It's just plain creepy and weird. And Plagg, my tiny floating black cat Kwami, still refuses to explain to me why this happened because since it obviously has something to do with my superpowers. It's extremely frustrating.

The only thing about me that seems to change is my eyes. Originally, they were emerald colored but as the years passed they have become a dark evergreen color, void of any light or life. What is worse is that my appearance reminds me of that day, that day, my happiness officially ended. Or at least, since that sounds depressing and I don't want anyone's pity, most of it died.

Walking out of the bathroom, I find Plagg laying contentedly on a silver metal tray that is now empty of camembert. I turn off the lights and quietly walk over to the pizza and pick up a slice.

"How was your shower?" a snarky voice asks and I jump a foot in the air.

"Jeez Plagg, I thought you were sleeping!" I whisper-yell not wanting to wake up the girl.

"Well, I was, Adrien, but you are like an elephant in a china shop," he grumbles, squinting his green eyes at me.

"Sorry Plagg," I sigh and move to sit down in a chair next to the desk.

Plagg is like my only friend right now and he doesn't really count since you know, he is a magical black cat that grants me powers. I have no time for a social life with being a CEO, Researcher, Physics Professor, and a Father. And, how I forget being Chat Noir, a world-famous superhero?

Most people would find this surprising since I am a billionaire (not important) and apparently the "god of all models." At least that what the magazines say. Mari used to call me her ray of sunshine in a dark world. A searing pain goes through my heart and my eyes water with tears. I slap myself in the face and curse my stupidity for letting her penetrate my thoughts again.

"Are you alright kid?" Plagg asks actual concern shining in his eyes.

"I'm fine," I mumble and bite into my pizza.

It's really good but I no longer have any appetite. I still make myself eat it, shoving it down my throat and rubbing the grease on my pants. I glance over at the girl again who is still sleeping peacefully in the king bed.

"Do you ever think Sleeping Beauty will wake from her deep sleep?"Plagg whispers.

"I hope so," I state, putting my head in my hands.

Plagg nuzzles against my cheek in an attempt to comfort me and I offer him a weak smile. Being a successful owner of a company, model, physicist, father, and superhero, take its toll on your stress wise.

Knock. Knock.

I jump out of my seat my heart racing and brain whirling, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. It rings through my ears again and I realize someone is at the door. I sigh, walk over to the door and look into the peephole. I smile, looking at the spitting image of M'lady; my daughter and instantly unlock the door.


	3. Somebody to Love

 

Song For This Chapter: 

Somebody To Love - Ella Enchanted 

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1bffIJDTrEM>

Emma's Point of View

"Hi Dad," I chirp, throwing my arms around his torso.

"Emma." He greets, offering me a small smile that didn't reach his eyes.

I stroll into the hotel room and grab a piece of pizza, taking a large bite, and sit down.

"How are you doing?" I inquire, with my mouth full.

"Fine," He mumbles and I glance up at him.

He looks well...not good. He has dark bags under his eyes and his skin is unusually pale.

"Dad, have you slept lately?" I ask, furrowing my brows.

Dad smiles at me but it's strained. His eyes are glistening with tears. Glistening with sadness. That wouldn't ever go away with more sleep and something I could never really fix. A deep sadness was created by my mother, bless her soul when she died. So consumed with worry about my worn-down father, I forget he is talking to me and now has asked me something. Shit.

"What was that Dad?" I ask and he groans and throws his hands in the air in annoyance.

"You're just like your mother. Daydreaming all the time. I said I'm fine and how was your patrol?"

"Fine. No sign of phantom if that's what you want to know." I answer.

My father heaves a sigh of relief and sits down in the other chair.

"Good. I need you and Volpino to keep an eye out for him though. I don't know if he'll try anything or find this girl again." he orders and I just nod.

We sat in compatible silence until my kwami Belle flies out of tan hipster.

"Can I have some Honey Nut Cheerios? I'm starving!" she asks, in her sweet little voice.

"Sure. Sorry about that Belle." I answer and reach into my hipster and pull out a full bag of cereal.

She shrieks with excitement and digs into the bag. Belle, a tiny floating black and yellow bee, absolutely adores anything honey flavored, especially Honey Nut Cheerios. My dad and I laugh at the little bee's reaction and I silently thank whatever deity out there that I have her. She's like family and I am glad to be able to share the burden of protecting people with my father and the freedom and adventure that comes with it.

Though, most of all, I'm grateful for Belle because she connects me to my mother, who held the Ladybug Miraculous, which is, according to my grandmother, what made my father fall in love with her. Honestly, I would do anything to be close to her again, especially since I have little memories of her. And, it is too painful for my father to talk about her.

Being miraculous is often as close as I get. I glance away from Belle and look at my father. Many of my classmates and their mom's find my dad attractive but I can never see it. Maybe because something in me just sees the man who used to play Barbies with me and would hold me when I had a nightmare.

Maybe, because I'm his daughter. Now that I'm older, I realize my dad needs someone to love (romantically) and not some horny moms bored with their husbands. He needs someone to love him unconditionally as my mom did. Not that a new woman would replace my mom, I don't think anyone could replace her, but my dad is lonely.

The only problem is that he is a mature forty-year-old adult stuck in a college kid's body. He is technically both forty and twenty-two at the same time. Often girls or I guess women in this case, who are his actual age, look at him like he is a kid. While girls who are around his physical age are usually below his maturity level and would be turned off by finding out he already has a teenaged daughter. So, the dilemma is real.

It's obvious by the way my father is looking at the girl on the bed, with his forehead scrunched up with worry and a bright fire in his eyes, I know there's something special about her. Now, I'm not going to be cliché and say she is "the one" but she definitely has potential.

Particularly since my father does not simply fall for a pretty face, it has to be the "whole" package. However, if this girl or woman lying unmoving in the bed is the "one", I hope she helps mend his broken heart and not break it completely. I'm kind of rambling at this point but you understand. My father is heartbroken and lonely: he needs somebody to love (other than me). My tangent/rant over.

I pick up the remote and switch on the TV. Fox News is broadcasting the visit of Chloe Belle Bourgeois Vicieux and her husband Mayor of Paris and her daughter Constance Luck Vicieux to promote the fashion week being held in New York. Chloe owns the Madame Fashion Company. I scowl at her perfectly curly blond hair and matching pink pantsuit and switch the channel to the animal planet. That is when I hear a soft groan.


	4. Happy Abyss

 

Song For This Chapter: 

Stairway to Heaven Piano - Led Zeppelin 

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QyeiNdhU9fs>

Coccinelle's Point of View

I'm floating in a dark abyss but oddly, I am not afraid. The abyss is... calming. I guess there comes a point in your life, whether you be unconscious or close to death when your life flashes before your eyes in vivid color.

Then you settle into a pit of darkness and instead of fighting it, you let it consume you. You let the darkness win, which is why I am not afraid. Rationally, it is the best choice. What is the point of opening my eyes and living another meaningless day?

What I am living isn't really my life. Everything was chosen for me before I could even comprehend the world around me. By the time I was five, I was already one of their puppets that controlled how I lived my life. I used to be an orphan but was adopted when I was seven. I have no memory of being an orphan though.

I was adopted by the current Mayor of Paris and his wife, and treated as, in nice terms, a maid. Until I ran away that is and to make a long story short, I am content, content with death and whatever comes after.

But, then I hear a buzzing noise. I listen harder and realize its voices. At first, I think they are angels welcoming me to heaven. They sound rather upset, even distraught. A feminine voice rising and falling in spikes of fear while a low masculine voice attempting to calm her.

Why are the angels upset? I wonder to myself. Aren't they happy to see me?

Slowly, I open my eyes and come face to face with a flat-screen TV. I groan, my head pounding and close my eyes, praying for sleep. My head feels like somebody is banging a hammer on it.

"She's awake!" the feminine voice yells and I groan, why is her voice so loud? I peek my eyes open again to see a girl with sky blue eyes in a black and yellow mask.

"Where am I?" suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

The room is bland but posh with a gold trimmed mirror and white crown molding, signs of a fancy hotel. But, I have no memory of how I got here. I remember walking the poorly lit streets of New York, hopelessly lost and trying to get a connection to pull up google maps.

I remember passing an alley and getting pulled into it...I shoot myself up out of the bed, pushing the girl away in my wake. She yelps in surprise which wakes a black leather-clad man who is sleeping in the chair. He, however, seems oddly familiar but I couldn't pinpoint why.

"Where am I?" I repeat, grabbing the nearest object I can find as a weapon.

"You are in New York City," the girl informs, her face flushed.

"I know that be more specific," I grumble.

'Well..." she trails off, rubbing the back of her neck and looking away.

For a second, I almost felt bad for putting her on the spot but then I remembered that this girl could possibly be a kidnapper.

"You are at the Four Seasons Hotel on Madison Street," the man says and I frown. I have no idea where I am still. Great.

"Oh." I stutter, not sure what else to say. I don't know New York City that well but I am pretty sure I am in the wealthier part. Last night, I was in the seedier part, heading to a motel called Ricky's, a place I knew no one would be able to find me. But because of that man in the white mask, I'm here, in more danger than ever yet safe at the same time because of the man in the leather suit. In fact, if it weren't for him, who knows what would've happened.

Suddenly, I feel embarrassed about my outburst and say, "Sorry, I was just confused for a second. I remember now, Chat Noir. Thank you for saving me."

Chat Noir smiles at me, "It was my pleasure, My Lady."

I smile back at him and that's when I see the cat ears sticking out of his head.

"If you don't mind me asking, Chat Noir, what are you exactly?" I ask, furrowing my brows. I mean, what kind of person has cat ears?

Chat Noir smirks deviously and my heart stops. Oh God, help me, I think to myself. I don't why I didn't notice before but Chat Noir, is god-like. His black leather suit sculpts his perfect six-pack, his hair is the color of golden sunshine all messy and probably incredibly soft. I have to restrain myself from not reaching out and touching it. The most defining feature is his eyes an evergreen color that shone brightly with unshed tears. They are captivating, I can't look away.

"Enjoying the view?" Chat purrs and I quickly turn away.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" I stammer, my face as bright as Rudolph's nose.

"That's alright, I know I'm pawsitively stunning," he replies, sending a wink my way and suddenly, I feel light-headed.

"Stop flirting, Chat! The poor girl is gonna faint!" the girl in the black and yellow striped suit scolds.

"Sorry, Queenie. I can't help that I'm purrfect." he snickers, gesturing to himself.

The girl groans and looks at me, "Ignore him. We are superheroes to answer your question. I'm Queen Bee and the annoying pun flirter over here, as you know, is Chat Noir."

"You're Superheroes?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah. We don't wear these suits for fun, although they are quite comfortable," She says, waving her arms energetically.

"You're not pulling my leg here," I warn her, not sure if this a terrible joke.

She frowns, "Why would I joke about being a superhero?"

"I dunno, it just seems..." I trail off, not sure how to finish my sentence.

"Unbelievable, weird, far-fetched," Chat chimes in and I nod.

"Well, believe it M' Lady, we are superheroes," he proclaims, puffing his chest out.

At first, I say nothing. I thought maybe they were just trippin on acid or some other drug. Then I decided, they must be cosplaying or something or maybe even amateur actors, after all, they didn't act like they are on drugs; not like had many experiences with people on drugs, but they seemed able to function normally. Not to mention the fact that Chat Noir saved me and seemed to have unnatural speed and colored eyes.

It almost made me think, just maybe, they were telling the truth. No drugs or cosmetics could really do that, at least to Chat's extent. However, it would seriously make me question everything I've ever known.

What did I know, really, I had never really gone outside the Bourgeois house, let alone outside of Paris! How would I know about Superheroes, I lived under a rock for the majority of my life. I guess, that staring at the blankly at them isn't going to help so I decide to just play along.

"Oh, are you guys the only superheroes?" I finally inquired, sitting up on the bed.

"Heck, no. There are superheroes in almost every country, every major city, all over the world. I'm am just the superhero of New York," Queen Bee chirps.

"Oh, that's good I guess. What are your guys' superpowers? You have superpowers right?" I frown, still not convinced.

Queen Bee scowls, "You don't believe me?"

"Well, I believe you guys help people since Chat Noir helped me. But, you guys being superheroes that have powers? No, sorry." I reply, crossing my arms.

Queen Bee shakes her head, "Fair enough, you have a point. I'll explain."


	5. The Perfect Balance

Song For This Chapter: 

Boyce Avenue Cover Superman- Five For Fighting 

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O9nFynxnjA0>

 

Narrator's Point of View

Black & White

Night & Day

Moon & Sun

Just like those things balance each other out so do Ladybug and Chat Noir. At, least they used to. They hadn't been a Ladybug in over a decade. A fact extremely blatant to the whole world, especially to Chat Noir, who sits in silence, cradling a pair of red earrings with black spots.

He has just faced a terrifying Akuma, a person granted powers by the villain Hawk Moth, who almost swallowed all of New York in flames because his son died in a fire because the firefighters arrived too late. It was almost impossible to stop, even with both miraculouses. It was just too much for one person. He needs a partner, badly and his heart aches at the thought.

Chat Noir sits at the top of the Empire State Building, trying to figure out what to do. He de-transforms from Chat Noir to the famous billionaire, in charge of one of the most monstrous fashion business in the world and famous model.

"I need a Ladybug, Plagg. I know I said no one can replace Marinette but it's too hard to fight Hawk Moth and the other criminals on my own." Chat Noir whispers, tears streaming down his red cheeks.

Plagg looks at him with sad eyes and shakes his head.

"I know kid. But, I'm afraid you're right. Hawk Moth along with many other enemies are getting stronger. You need a Ladybug."

Adrien, slumps, deflated from the lack of sleep.

"I know Plagg, that's what I said. You thought I should've chosen a new Ladybug sooner after all! However, I just can't stand anyone other than Marinette being Ladybug. I know you must think I'm stupid but it kills me inside. But for the sake of the city and the world, I will get a new Ladybug."

"I don't think that Adrien, I know it's hard, a broken heart is the worst infliction but I do think you need help. You're exhausted." Plagg replies and nuzzles against Adrien's cheek.

Adrien sighs, more tears dripping from his eyes.

For a while, they sit in silence, absorbing what they decided. There will be a new Ladybug, it is necessary, no matter how much it hurt them to replace Marinette. A car honks in the distance and a vendor below tries to sell pretzels while a tall bald man curses for spilling his coffee.

Adrien loves New York. It is "charming", in his opinion. However, it is nothing compared to his birthplace, Paris. Paris, however, reminds Adrien too much of Marinette, which made the hole in his heart unbearable. So, New York is second best to Adrien.

"Adrien, if you want, I can deliver the miraculous to Signora and she can choose the new ladybug if you wish. I know this is painful, for you and for that, I'm sorry, "Plagg offers, his ears flat against his head in sadness.

All he wanted was his holder to be happy again. He is the shell of the person he once was. Of course, Plagg never told Adrien that he cared, pretending that he only cared about Camembert. But truly, Plagg loved Adrien.

Adrien nods curtly in response to plagg and to reassure himself that this is the right thing. Plagg then flies away and Adrien makes his way to the elevator, where his assistant waits for him with a coffee in hand.

"Your coffee sir," the man says, handing him a cup of coffee.

Adrien smiles weakly at him and takes the coffee.

"Would you like me to call Gorilla for you?" he asks and Adrien shakes his head.

Gorilla, his personal bodyguard Adrien had since he was a boy, is getting older and he hates to overwork him.

"Just call me a taxi, please."

His assistant nods in understanding and pulls out his phone. The elevator dings and they walk into the lobby where the security guard sits, asleep. A yellow taxi waits outside for them and Adrien tells the driver to head to the Agreste Company building. By that point, Plagg is back in his pocket, sleeping, and together, they vanish under the cover of the night.


	6. Like The Sun

Song For This Chapter: 

Here Comes The Sun - The Beatles 

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U_O1QKQCsGs>

 

Emma's Point of View

Today, I have decided I officially hate my dad. Not because he grounded me or won't let me go shopping, oh no. That's what a normal father would do and it would a welcome thing to get grounded. Then again my dad is the famous superhero, Chat Noir and a famous billionaire and model and is the definition of not normal.

Anyway, my father left me in a lurch to explain what, why, and how we have superpowers without revealing our Kwami's since he had to go to a "business" meeting. Which, is not an easy task, especially when you have no idea what to say.

"Where did leather boy go?" a gentle voice asks.

I turn away from the window my father exited after the girl fell asleep mid-conversation and look at her. She fainted after Chat Noir, showed her his cataclysm and turned the dresser into ashes. Not his brightest moment, I would say but whatever.

"Leatherboy?" I ask, arching an eyebrow.

She blushes, her cheeks a nice rosy color and shrugs, "Sorry, I forgot his name."

Right then, I almost let my guard down. I repeat, almost. I mean, I would be a terrible Superhero if I just trusted someone after only talking to them for a half-hour. But, she didn't seem like a threat looking like a blushing sugarplum, but you never know.

"His name is Chat Noir. Although, Leather Boy is a clever title," I chuckle.

"Chat Noir. Got it." She repeats in a perfect French accent.

I stop laughing and stare at her, mouth agape. She's French! That's why she was in the shadier area in the city! She had no idea where she was going! She must be from a wealthy family in France. Now, it all made sense. However, that didn't mean that she isn't a threat.

"Your French?" I ask, finally finding my words.

She nods hesitantly, her violent eyes flitting left and right.

I sigh, "That explains your accent then and why you were in the bad part of town. Is your first time in New York?"

She nods again, twiddling her thumbs.

"No wonder! You really shouldn't be traveling the streets of New York alone!" I exclaim and she shrugs sheepishly.

"Why are you in the Great Apple anyway?" I ask her and she stiffens.

I frown at that but decide not to push her. She was still in a fragile state. My dad can figure out why she's here later, he is the more charismatic one after all.

"Do you still want me to explain our superpowers to you?" I say, changing the subject.

"Sure," she mumbles.

"Ok. How about we play a game. I tell you something about being a superhero and you tell me something about your life?"

"Ok," the girl agrees.

"I, Queen Bee, have the power of truth. I can tell if someone is lying and get someone to tell the truth. I can also, destroy illusions and restore criminals and Akumas' to their original state."

"Wow, that's amazing. But I still have a lot of questions." the girl says, smiling.

I shake my pointer at her, "You can ask your question after I ask mine. This a game, remember?"

"Right, what's your question?" she inquires.

"We'll start with something simple: What's your name?" I ask.

"Coco," she states.

"That's a weird name," I comment.

"It's a nickname," she giggles.

"Really, that's a strange nickname," I mutter.

"My turn, why are you dressed like a Bumble Bee?" Coco questions, propping her chin on her hand.

"Because the source of my power comes from a Bubble Bee, hence my name, Queen Bee," I answer.

"Oh, does every superhero derive its power from an animal?"

"Yup. My turn," I state.

She smiles in encouragement.

"How old are you?"

"I'm eighteen," she answers and I gasp. She looked no older than me!

"You don't look eighteen!" I shout.

"Everyone says that it's annoying" she pouts pressing her red lips in a thin line.

"My turn. What's an Akuma?" Coco inquires.

"A person who is preyed on by Hawk Moth and granted powers to do evil. It's more complicated but that's the easiest way to explain it."

Her pale forehead crinkles at this but she says nothing.

"Why are you here, in New York?" I ask, staring into her eyes.

She gulps, "For a new start."

I raise an eyebrow in disbelief "Why do you need a new start?" She is wearing an expensive dress and rubies. Her purse is full of money. Why does she need a new start?

Coco looks away.

"Why did you leave France?" I demand, blood coursing through my veins. There is something afoot here and I don't like it. What rich person would run away unless they were a criminal of some sort?

"Personal reasons that are none or your concern." She whispers her gaze fixed on hands.

I take a deep breath.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have shouted. I got carried away. I don't usually do interrogations, Chat Noir does. However, you will eventually have to tell us though. This city is dangerous for foreigners like yourself and can be..." I trail off, trying to find the right word.

"Unforgiving? I know," Coco cuts me off and I nod.

"New York is nothing like Paris though," I warn. Paris has its dangers but New York is far worse.

"I know," she replies.

I nod and instinctively touch my black and yellow necklace.

"Is that the source of your power?" she inquires.

"Partially," I say.

"It's beautiful." Coco breathes, her lips curved in a smile.

"Thank you," I stammer, cheeks growing warm. I curse at myself but I'm not really used to compliments.

"What's the other part of your power?"

"I can't tell you," I answer, thinking about the first time I received my miraculous Kwami Belle.

My father told me that if people find out about the source of our power, people will track us down, steal our kwami's and try to recreate them. It would be worse than Hawk Moth, which I find that hard to believe. But I couldn't find the strength to argue with my father at the time, he was so serious.

"Oh, I understand. Sorry for asking," she replies, rubbing her bruised arms.

"What happened to your arms?" I blurt.

"I...fell." she stammers.

I narrow my eyes but know by now that I wouldn't get an answer.

"Can you explain more about Hawk Moth and his akumas?" she questions, changing the subject.

"Sure. Hawk Moth, one of most notorious villains, derives his power from an animal like us. However, instead of using his power for good, he uses them for evil. As I said, he can grant people powers in order to avenge a wrongdoing in their life. For example, a couple of years ago there was a guy who was akumatized to look and have the powers of the Hulk because he was angry his parents didn't take his dream of being a comic book writer of Superheroes seriously."

" How do you stop an Akuma like the Hulk with truth, then?" Coco inquires, leaning against the mahogany headrest.

"I purify the Akuma, which is a tiny butterfly that Hawk Moth controls," I say.

"But, how?" she repeats.

I sigh and curse my father mentally. Explaining my job to someone who wasn't a Superhero is hard. He is going to pay when he comes back.

"I purify the Akuma by returning the butterfly and the person to its original state or true form with this," I answer, pulling out a golden baton that lengthened into a pointy sword.

Instantly Coco moves towards the window as if making to jump out.

I laugh and then put it away, "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you. I just thought it would be easier to show it to you rather than explain it. It's called a truth stinger. I pierce the object that holds the Akuma and instantly it's purified."

Coco places a hand against her heart and shoots me a glare.

I laugh harder, my eyes watering.

"It's not funny! I almost had a heart attack!" she pouts, crossing her arms.

"Sorry, I just never saw someone react that way."

Coco huffs and pushes a stray black curl behind her ear, "I find that hard to believe. It's a pointy sword for God's sake!".

I shake my head, trying to hold in my chuckles.

" Since you just scared me to death, it mine turn to ask another question: Are you and Chat Noir both in charge of New York?"

 

"I and another Superhero named Volpino are in charge of New York. Chat is more of supervisor or manager, going where he is needed." I reply.

" So is Volpino like your sidekick?"

"No, he's my partner. We are equals," I snap. I hate when they call Volpino a sidekick as if he is isn't important. I would be dead many times over without him, not to mention, he makes me smile.

"Sorry. I thought the terms were interchangeable." Coco apologizes.

" They are not. And I hate it when people call him a sidekick. He is just so wonderful, charming, handsome.." I trail off, smiling at the ceiling.

Coco giggles, a sound so similar to bells, almost musical.

"What?" I demand.

"He's more than your partner, isn't he?" she teases, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"No." I spit out.

This makes her chuckle more, her chest heaving. Finally, she gains control of herself and says, "Do all Superheroes have partners?"

"Yes," I reply but then I remember my father.

"Usually, at least." I amend.

"Chat Noir is the exception, isn't he?" she whispers, a genuine sadness reflected in her expression.

I could only nod, my words stuck in my throat.

My dad hasn't had a partner since I was born. Ever since Ladybug, who was my mom. She died only a few months after I was born, so I have little memory of her. However, by what my dad has told me (which isn't a lot, it is very painful for him to talk about) she was amazing.

As bright as a star and as beautiful as Venus herself. Dad always says I'm a lot like her, which gives me a sense of pride yet a sense of sorrow. She was an amazing woman and I am proud to share some of her characteristics but that also means that I am a living reminder of my mother that continues to haunt my father.

Every time he looks at me, there are always tears in his eyes. His raw pain reminds me that this world is imperfect and that something is missing. A reminder that the world, although is full of good, is also full of bad.

To this day, it still renders me speechless.

The silence seemed to last forever when Coco says, "I'm sorry for your guys' loss. I didn't mean to hurt you by bringing it up."

I force a smile, "Don't worry about it. Just, please don't mention Chat not having a partner again."

She nods, her purple-gray eyes shining with tears. Suddenly, it was easier to breathe somehow, she makes sorrow seem beautiful.

Maybe, it is just that she understands. Maybe, it is just that it is rare to see true compassion from a complete stranger. It is strange, what I am feeling. I feel warm and comforted in her presence. Coco, a complete stranger, yet it felt like I had known her my whole life. Like she was always there, a constant. Like the sun, that slowly rolls up and down the slope of the sky.


	7. The Interrogation

Song For This Chapter: 

Whataya Want From Me - P!NK & Adam Lambert 

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iL25Njr8xFA>

 

Coccinelle's Point of View

Queen Bee, the girl in the black and yellow stripe suit, is an extremely strong person. She has obviously faced a great loss yet she keeps a straight face while talking about it. I guess that is what you would expect from a Superhero, but Superheroes are human also. You can't expect them to be strong all the time. And she is so young, maybe in her early teens.

It breaks my heart, truly to see someone so young force herself to move past a great loss, without showing her pain. So much so, I could weep. However, if this young girl, a Superhero can keep it together, so can I.

She clears her throat again and asks, "Are you hungry Coco? You've been asleep for three days?"

My stomach grumbles in reply and she laughs.

"Here, take some pizza," she commands, handing me a plate and a slice.

"Thank you, Queen Bee. I don't know how to repay you and Chat Noir." I whisper, taking a bite of the pizza.

"You can start by telling us why you are here in New York City?" a smooth male voice interjects.

I jump and see the one and only Chat Noir, hanging outside the window.

"I already asked her that Chat!" Queen Bee huffs, moving past me to open the window.

"Well, it seemed like you needed help." Chat replies, swinging himself gracefully into the room.

Queen Bee scowls, " Thanks, but I do know how to ask some questions, Chat. I'm not totally inexperienced,"

He crosses his arms, "Really? Then why is this girl, who obviously doesn't belong here, in New York?"

Queen Bee opens her mouth then closes it.

"Thought so. You don't know anything" Chat snaps.

" Not true. Her name is Coco and she is from France. She came here for a new start!" Queen Bee blurts her face on fire.

Chat sighs, " I'm sorry Queenie. I didn't mean to snap. Good work but how exactly does this information help? "

"It helps, because... "she trails off, looking at the ground

"Because it means I'm not a threat." I finish for her.

" I guess that's reasonable but how do I know I can trust you? I did find you in the bad section of town. " he taunts, stepping closer to me.

" I....do not know... I guess you just have to trust me. I can't really explain in detail my situation. It could put you in danger. " I mumble, clutching my hands tightly

" Why can't you tell me? I can protect you!" he shouts.

" I just can't Chat Noir. Please understand," I plead, tears coming to my eyes.

He growls in frustration and turns to Queen Bee.

" Use the truth stinger," he orders.

Queen Bee's eyes widen in shock," I can't do that Chat! It's only for akumas!"

" Just do it. How else are we going to find the truth?" Chat argues.

" There must be a different way, Chat. Maybe we can give her a lie detector test at the police station or....." Queen Bee trails off.

" No! Please! Don't take me to the police station!" I cry out. If they do that, stepmother might have already filed a missing person's report at the station and I could take back to her. It would make this whole attempt useless.

" Why can't you go to the police? What are you hiding that is so dangerous? " Chat Noir demands.

" I'm sorry," I wheeze, my breaths becoming short.

" Sorry is not good enough!!! Tell me, Girl !" Chat growls, his eyes flickering from green to black.

I gasp, backing up against the backboard in horror.

" Chat, Stop! You're scaring her!" Queen Bee screams.

"Queenie, get out of here now. I'll deal with her," Chat orders, his eyes never leaving my face.

" No. Not until you calm down. " she snaps.

A loud growl rumbles through Chat's chest, shaking the furniture around us.

"Leave now," he grunts, his eyes now completely black.

Queen Bee glances between and Chat Noir, her green eyes filled with fear.

" Just go, Queen Bee. I'll be fine." I try to reassure her.

" Can't Coco, Chat's...." she begins but Chat Noir extends his claws at her.

I smile weakly, " Just go before he gets really mad."

She frowns but finally nods, and two beautiful glittery-gold wings sprout from her back.

" I'll come back, " she promises with a sad smile.

I nod and watch her open the window and fly out.

"Chat Noir?" I whisper, my hands shaking. What's happening to him?

He snarls at me and I grab the nearest object to defend myself.

Great, I think to myself. Now I am stuck with Chat who looks like he's possessed by a Demon. Something was definitely happening to him and I somehow caused it.

"You know, that's not a very good weapon," Chat comments inching closer to me, his eyes still darker than space.

I shake my head, tears threatening and point the weapon, in this case, a porcelain vase, at his face.

He chuckles at me and I swallow hard.

"Coco is it?" he asks, cocking his head.

I nod, not trusting my voice, and point the vase at him.

Chat Noir smirks, "Well Coco, if I wanted to hurt you, I would've done it already."

And in flash, he takes the vase from my hands and throws it against the wall. It shatters into glittery particles.

"Then why are you growling at me? Why are your eyes black? Why did you send Queen Bee away?" I shriek.

I curse myself mentally for sounding weak.

"So many questions. The short answer is that it's part of my superpowers went I get angry. I'm sorry if I am scaring you, I just lost my cool with the stress of everything. I shouldn't have done that. But I also wanted to talk to you alone. " He apologizes, his eyes finally returning to his normal green.

But this time I notice tiny flecks of gold swirling around near his pupil since he was only a breath from my face.

" It's ok but Why?" I rasp, uncomfortable with the lack of space between us.

" Why what?" he questions.

" Why did you want to talk to me alone?" I finish.

"Reasons," he chuckles.

"Reasons," I repeat, quirking an eyebrow.

"How about we continue the game you and Queen Bee started," Chat Noir suggests and I shrug.

"I'll take that as a yes. I'll start then: Why are you here in New York?" he asks.

"Queen Bee already told you that," I whisper, still wary of him. His eyes were back to its emerald color but they did turn black there for a minute. Which is not normal, even for a so-called "Superhero."

"Well, I don't buy it. Where's your passport or visa?" he demands.

My hands start to tremble but I force myself to remain still.

"The man with the white mask stole it," I lie.

"Why are you lying?" Chat questions, staring into my eyes.

I stare back, trying to keep my tears at bay and gather my thoughts.

"How would you know I'm lying?" I counter, crossing my arms.

"Your hands are shaking and you look like you are about to cry. Observation 101," he answers.

Dam, I curse myself. So much for being calm and collected. I guess I have to tell him the truth.

"I can't tell you." I murmur, playing with a strand of my hair.

"Why?" he inquires.

"I just...can't."

"Why?" he repeats.

"Because...you wouldn't understand," I stammer.

"Try me," he says, his voice softer somehow.

"Well, as you probably gathered, I am from a rich family, and to make a long story short, I wasn't treated the best and ran away. It was a last minute decision so I don't have my passport with me. "

Chat Noir frowns at me but eventually nods his head.

"I understand." He states, laying next to me.

I shift away from him and glance at him through the corner of my eye.

"You do?" I breathe.

"Yes."

"So, you'll let me go?" I ask, hope fluttering in my chest.

"No."

I rise to my feet, "Then you don't understand."

Then I try to run to the door but Chat beats me to it, pinning me to the wall.

"Why are you running?" he snaps.

"Because you are holding me, prisoner! Why else?" I shout, staring defiantly into his eyes.

"You are not prisoner unless there is something you would like to tell me.." he trails off, a devious smirk covering his mouth.

"No, No. I already told you I can't tell you without putting you and Queen Bee in danger. Now, why you won't let me go?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he exclaims, leaning away from me.

I sigh in relief, finally able to breathe and slow my erratic heartbeat.

As I said, he is a fine specimen. However up close, there was almost something tragic about him. There were purple half-moon craters underneath his eyes as if he hadn't slept in weeks. His skin, though tan, seemed pale and more often than not, Chat's flirty smiles never reach his eyes.

Clearly, Chat Noir has his burdens to carry. Emma's words whisper through the back of my head, reminding me of the loss of his partner. He probably blames himself for her death and is reminded every day of it by the simplest things. Truly, my heart goes out to him, even if he is keeping me locked in a fancy hotel room.

Finally, after a few minutes of me creepily staring, I answer him with a soft "No."

He shoots me a pair of daggers into my skull and groans. "Seriously? Does being attacked in a dirty alley ring a bell?"

"Oh, that," I blush. How could I forget? I was almost captured by the man in the white mask! Images of his cold eyes and white gloves grabbing me and pulling me into the alley flashes in my inner eye. I shudder.

"Yes, that," Chat growls.

"Well, didn't you say he did that to all girls? What's the likelihood he would remember me?" I ask, arching a black eyebrow.

Chat said that he often kidnapped and sold girls, and there were millions of girls in New York alone. Not like I wanted any of them to get kidnapped but with so many girls, what are the odds that he would remember me? Slim to none, probably.

Chat Noir studies me intently and suddenly I feel jittery. The way he gazes at me as if I am an angel just makes me feel weird. No one had ever looked at me that way before, but I'll admit, I was just my step-mother's servant, so I was forced to melt into the shadows of her mansion. However, Chat Noir eyes almost seem to sparkle, as if he could see something buried beneath me that I can't see. Which, makes no sense, but there are not really any words to explain it otherwise.

"Coco, you must be really stupid if you think the phantom will forget you." He eventually says, looking away.

"I don't understand Chat Noir," I stutter. What is this man on about?

"You're so naïve," chat chuckles, shaking his head.

I frown, "Naïve?"

"Very and that is why, M' Lady, I will not let you leave. It is for your own safety;" Chat Noir bows in front of me and my heart flutters. I think it is incredibly sweet of him to worry about me, someone he barely knew. It warmed my heart.

"That's very sweet Chat Noir but I can take care of myself," I smile reassuringly.

"Really My Lady? I don't think so. They are many bad people in New York City," Chat Noir protests.

"Well, who says I'm not a bad person myself?" I counter, meeting his eyes. He is making me out to be a saint or angel, neither of which I am.

" Well, are you a bad person? " he asks, quirking an eyebrow.

" What?"

" Are you a bad person?" he repeats.

" I...dodododon't know," I stutter.

" Well, are you a thief?"

" No."

" Cheater?"

" No."

" Murder?"

" No."

" Serial Killer? Satanist?" he questioned, boxing me in with his arms.

" Oh my God, No!!!!" I shout.

" Then, you are not a bad person." Chat Noir concludes.

"How does show anything? You barely know me!" I exclaimed, running a hand through my greasy hair. Gross, I definitely needed a shower.

" Trust me, you are definitely not a bad person," he laughs, his eyes crinkling.

" But Chat Noir, you don't know me," I repeat.

"Well, since I am now your guardian angel, why don't you tell me about yourself?"

"Chat, your very sweet, I don't know what I would've done without you but trust me, you don't want to protect me, let alone get to know me," I whisper, tears clouding my vision. It is true, after all. I am scum off of somebody's shoe.

"Why don't you let me decide that for myself!" he demands and I swallow back a sob.

"No," I choke out.

"Coco, you don't have a choice. I will protect you. It's my job after all!" he declares.

"I'm not worthy." I sob, tears breaking down the planes of my face.

"Coco, don't say that. Please, don't cry," Chat says, clutching me to his chest.

My damn of emotions suddenly breaks and tears tint my face with red blotches, sobs rack my chest, making it hard to breathe. Chat Noir rubs circles with his thumb against my back in comfort but I am drowning in my agony. Black spots wink in and out of my vision and my heart hammers loud in my ears, I'm losing control. I lose my footing, and then I'm falling. I curl my legs into my chest to break the descent.

I think Chat Noir catches me but I can't tell.

The memories flood me.

Images of a blond woman with plastic blue eyes shouting and throwing an iron pan at my head flashes through my mind. My stepmother. A bald man with a curly black mustache strikes me and I topple down the stairs. My stepfather.

A girl with the same blond hair as the woman but with warm chocolate eyes fixes me up and dresses me in a black ball gown and hands me a silver coach loaded with cash. My step-sister.

Blood gathers by my head as I wail.

Red and Black mesh. A gray striped blazer. A white butterfly. The only memories I have before thirteen. Stepmom said I had a bad fall and lost my memories. But, I am not entirely convinced. Supposedly, I was from an orphanage in Paris, France. I have no clear memories of it though except the shadows of images, holes, and spaces in the movie role of my life.

Chat Noir would never understand the black hole that's my life. He still holds me tightly to his chest, shouting my name, but I have no control over my lips. It was better this way.

It was better that I die.


	8. The Hospital

Song For This Chapter: 

You Don't Own Me - Grace ft. G-Eazy 

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=71LewgKrpkc>

 

Narrator's Point of View

After Coccinelle (aka Coco) had a mental break down and fell unconscious, Chat Noir called Queen Bee and they went to the hospital. Dr. Max, a middle-aged black man with square glasses who was an old friend of Chat Noir's, examined her and said she most likely had a panic attack mixed with dehydration and starvation. Coccinelle had only had a little bit of her pizza after all and who knows when she last ate. So Dr. Max, hooked her up to an IV to help hydrate her in a nice corner room of the hospital, separated from the other guests.

Queen Bee, angry at her father and full of worry for Coccinelle is pacing in front of the window, mumbling curses. Chat Noir, his features a mask of stone, is sitting by Coccinelle 's beside, gripping her hand. Twenty-four hours are almost up and Coccinelle still laid unmoving in her white hospital bed, her face a mask of pain. A nurse named Mary walks into the room and checks her vitals.

"She's all good. Just extremely tired and dehydrated." She reassures them, giving a small smile.

"Why does she look like she's in pain then?" Chat demands, scowling at the nurse.

Coccinelle thrashes against the white sheets and then falls down chest heaving.

"Maybe she's having a nightmare dear," the nurse replies, glancing at Coccinelle.

"Is there anything you can do?" Chat asks, his green eyes bulging out their sockets.

"Unfortunately, no dear," she replies, writing something on her brown clipboard.

"Do you think it's ok to wake her up?" Queen Bee asks, facing the nurse.

"I think it's best to let her sleep for a little bit and try to wake her up tomorrow," she says and fixes the covers.

"Ok, well thank you, Mary." Queen Bee responds because her father had become entranced by Coccinelle' s face. She did look like an angel or goddess in Queen Bee's opinion and she could tell her dad felt the same.

The nurse smiles and leaves the room.

"This is my fault," Chat Noir states.

Queen Bee sighs, "It's not your fault Dad, Coco is obviously traumatized from almost getting captured and completely overwhelmed by you. Just maybe, next time, be less aggressive?"

"I know, but I still pushed her over the edge. I just wanted to know what made an obviously upper-class French girl flee her home and come to New York City of all places!" Chat whisper-yells.

"I understand Dad. Just next time, take it nice and slow," she replies, slinging her arm around her father.

Chat Noir doesn't respond but squeezes her hand.

"Do you want me to get your food or something?" Queen Bee asks, strategically changing the topic.

"Sure, can you get Chinese?" Chat Noir chirps, grinning like a child.

Queen Bee laughs, "Sure. The normal sesame chicken and white rice?"

"Yup, and get a few different types of chicken as well for Coccinelle. Not sure what she likes.," he answers, glancing at Coccinelle again. Her face seemed less tense but she still looked upset by whatever she was dreaming about.

"Ok, use the credit card?" she inquires, stepping away from her father.

"I think they only take cash. There's a leather wallet behind my pillow at home," Chat says.

"Ok. I'll go now. Love you." Queen Bee whispers and grabs her honeycomb hoverboard and soars out the window into the smoky night.

Chat sighs and turns his attention back to Coccinelle. He really hopes she wakes up soon otherwise he will never forgive himself.

Chat Noir squeezes her hand again and places a chaste kiss on the front.

He'd only known Coccinelle for a few days, but already, Chat could find his heart dancing at the sight of her. Chat Noir, the loner Superhero, who swore would never fall in love again, is falling in love again, hard.

Unknown to Queen Bee and Chat Noir, however, sits Phantom in the shadow of a law firm window across the street. Ever since he met Coccinelle that night, he couldn't get her out of his head. Her innocent look of desperation, her unusual silky black and silver hair, her purple-grey eyes that seem brighter than the sun. She haunts him not only when he is awake but asleep in his dreams, her cheeks flush and her red lips trembling, lips he kissed. Lips he wants to kiss again.

During the day, Phantom tried to push those thoughts away but she always remained lurking in the dusty corners of his brain. Just the thought of her drives him crazy and so finally he broke down and began searching for her. He must have her and not just for business but as his and only: his wife. It was a weird concept to him at first but it the only way to explain what he was feeling.

Of course, it took him forever to find her thanks to a certain sneaky cat and pesky bug, who are guarding her twenty-four/seven. Annoying to say the least, Phantom thought to himself. He found them after sending out his scouts out in every part of the city and luckily one spotted Chat Noir carrying her into the hospital.

So, here he sits. Waiting for the perfect to strike and steal her right under Chat Noir's nose. it would be his pleasure too since Chat Noir seems to be enamored by her as well. Therefore, not only would he get what he desired but he would also revenge against his mortal enemy as well. It would be a win-win.

It is a genius idea from a genius villain but there are two problems:

1\. The heroes never left her alone

And

2\. Phantom needs a plan to distract them.

Something he has been trying to figure out all night but he is stumped.

Suddenly, his phone rings and has to turn away from the window.

"Hello," he grunts, clearly annoyed.

"Hello, Louis," a masculine voice answers and Phantom scowls.

"What do you want Hawkmoth?" Phantom snaps, grinding his pearly white teeth.

"Now, is that a way to talk to your savior?" the man, Hawkmoth, taunts.

"You are not my savior and I already told you that there was no sign of the Ladybug Miraculous," Phantom spits.

"I am the one who made you are! Never forget that!" Hawkmoth bellows through the phone.

"Whatever," phantom mutters.

"Don't whatever me boy! Now listen, rumor is that Chat Noir had the Ladybug miraculous and handed it Signora to find a new Ladybug. I want you to retrieve it!" Hawkmoth demands and the phantom removes the phone from his ear. The shouting is killing his eardrums.

"Signora has it?" he questions.

"I already said that idiot!" Hawkmoth snaps.

"You do realize that this a fruitless mission, Signora has been a master for years," Phantom says.

"I don't care! Do it or else..." Hawkmoth begins to threaten but phantom interrupts;

"Fine, Fine, Is that all?"

"Yes. Do whatever it takes," he responds and the call ends.

Phantom sighs and glances back at the hospital window.

"I'll come back for you later princess," phantom promises to the sleeping girl and then vanishes into thin air.


	9. Wild Horses

Song For This Chapter: 

Wild Horses- The Rolling Stones 

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQTHB4jM-KQ>

 

Chat Noir's Point of View

It's five am right now and my body refuses to rest. I pace back and forth in front of the hospital bed where Coco thrashes in her dreams. Our last conversation replays over and over in my head.

She said that I wouldn't want to know her. She said that she wasn't worthy. She said things that are definitely not true and I hardly know her. When I first saw her, I instantly knew she was worthy and that I would die to just know something, anything, about her previous life. But I couldn't tell her that while she's asleep. It's a barrier between us and it drives me crazy. I want her to see she is worthy and that every person has worth. Oh God, I wish I could tell her.

I shouldn't have interrogated her like that. I shouldn't have pinned her against the wall when she wanted to leave. She had her rights to freedom and privacy but she didn't see the way phantom looked at her, like a kicked puppy. He will stop at nothing until he has her. I need to protect her but she was and is stubborn. The kind of girl that thinks she can take care of herself all on her own.

No one can really stand alone, though. Everyone needs someone and whether Coco knows it or not, she needs me.

A hear a knock at the window and jolt out my reverie, in attack mode. Emma laughs at me and waves her black and yellow-gloved hand at me. I shake my head and walk towards the window.

I told her to go home and not to worry but clearly, she didn't listen. I unhinge the window and step back and quietly she swings herself in.

"I thought I told you to go do your homework and sleep. You have school tomorrow!" I whisper, glaring at her.

"Already done homework and couldn't sleep." she replies, popping her lips.

"Why not?" I question, that wasn't like her. Once Emmy hit the bed she was usually out. I hope it wasn't me keeping her awake. I am her father, after all, I'm the only one that should be awake, worrying. With her being a superhero though, it's hard, especially with all of the responsibilities.

"Just have things on my mind," Emmy sighs, plopping down in a plastic hospital chair.

"Want to talk about it?" I say, sitting down beside her.

"It's nothing," she mumbles.

"Are you sure? It must be something since you are awake?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows at her.

"Well... I was just wondering, how did you know you were in love with mom?" she blurts, her cheeks turning pink.

"That's why you can't sleep? You're not sure if you are in love?" I chuckle and Emmy scowls at me.

"It's part of it. Why is that funny to you?" she pouts, crossing her arms.

"Because you are only fifteen. You shouldn't be worrying about that,"

"You fell in love with mom when you were fifteen," Emmy points out and I gently pull her into a hug.

"That's true, I guess." I muse and plant a tiny kiss on her head.

"So, will you tell me how you know if you are in Love?" she asks giving me her baby doll eyes.

I groan. I am absolutely helpless to the baby doll eyes.

"Well, there are the usual signs. Your heart rate picks up, you begin thinking about them all the time, you blush when you look at them, so on and so forth," I begin, staring at Coco, tossing and turning in her bed.

"Isn't that just signs of attraction?" Emmy questions.

I sigh, playing with a piece of her hair, "Yes but the attraction is a part of love"

"But love isn't just an attraction, right?"

"No, it's a lot more complicated than that, Emmy," I answer.

"Too complicated to explain?" she whispers.

" Well.... yes and no," I reply.

" What do you mean? It can't be yes and no, it has to be one or the other." she protests.

" Not everything is clear-cut like that Emmy. Love is proof of that. There are many types of love and many ways to describe love. However, as a consequence, it is hard to pinpoint what it is exactly since there are too many possibilities."

" Oh, I guess that makes sense since you don't love me like you loved mom."

" Exactly," I smile.

She smiles back then frowns.

" What's wrong?" I ask.

" Nothing..." she stutters but continues "its just....if there are so many types of love, how do you know you have the right love?"

I furrow my brow in thought, " I don't know if you can truly know anything since we as human beings are limited in our understanding. However, I believe love, true, pure love, is kind and selfless, brave and loyal, until our dying breath."

" Oh, that seems....hard to find," Emmy grumbles.

I laugh, " No one ever said it was easy but I promise you, one day, you will find, true, pure love."

" But I already have some from you, daddy," she replies and my heart melts.

" That is true, my princess. And you will have it forever," I murmur placing a kiss on her head.

She smiles, her emerald eyes sparkling with light and warmth, " Thanks, dad."

" Your welcome princess,"

We sit in silence for a little while but then she pivots her head to face me.

" Dad?"

" Hmm..?"

" What was your's and mom's love song?"

" Wild Horses by The Rolling Stones " I answer.

" Never heard of it," she states.

" I'll play for you sometime," I promise.

" Good," she sighs, snuggling into me.

" Why do you ask Emmy?"

" I was just wondering, since, most couples have a song," Emmy whispers.

I don't say anything after that and a few minutes later, she falls asleep in my arms. Gently, I lean her against the chair and pull over the extra hospital bed over and place her on it. She snuggles into the pillow and I smile at her peaceful expression and pull a wool blanket on top of her.

I wonder what made her ask about love but I would never dare to ask. Emmy is a very private person, especially about her school and social life. I try to get her to open up but she often shuts me out and it breaks my heart. But I can't force her. I just have to remind her that I am here for her.

I sit back at Coco's beside and stare blankly at the clock which it's black hands stretched over the block twelve and six. It is six am and the city is beginning to wake, sirens going off and cars blinking their red headlights, roaring to life. The first bus stops at the nearby McDonald's and a few people walk on.

My eyelids flutter and I have to shift around to make sure I stay awake. Lack of sleep is taking its toll and I am not sure how long I can hold out. A nurse, this time a balding man named Steve, enters the room and takes Coco's vitals and then turns to me.

"Mr. Noir, you should probably get some sleep, I'll watch her if you wish," he says and I open my mouth to protest but out comes a yawn.

"Alright, but wake me up if anything happens," I surrender and find myself another hospital bed and drift off into a dreamless sleep.


	10. Real Dreams

Song For This Chapter: 

Sweet Dreams- Emily Browning ( Eurythmics)  

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cxdwEOpGknk>

 

Coccinelle's Point of View

I always thought dreams were weird but the dream occurring right now is...unexplainable. I am in my stepmom's hotel, cleaning the tile floor when suddenly a tall middle- age woman with frizzy red hair and a silver owl necklace appears.

"Are you Coccinelle Sauver?" she asks.

I step back in surprise, "Yes. Who are you?"

She smiles, "Most call me Signora."

"Signora," I repeat, clutching my wet cloth, not sure if she is a threat or not.

"Yes, now are you Coccinelle Sauver?" she asks again and I nod in reply.

"Good, we don't have much time. I need you to trust me, this is very important," she says, clutching her pendant.

"Trust you? You're a complete stranger!" I shout.

"I know but do you trust Chat Noir?" she asks, her yellow-green eyes searching my face.

"More than you, I guess," I answer. I have only had one conversation with him but seeing that he hasn't killed me yet, I assume I could trust him.

"Then trust me, Chat Noir does as well," Signora begs.

"Ok," I agree, raising an eyebrow.

"This is a vision, not a dream. I am real and everything I am about to say is real as well," she informs me.

I nod, urging her to go on.

She then continues, "I need you to escape the hospital and head to a little shop called Quetzalcoatl. It's on the right of the hospital, only a few blocks down the road. There you will find me, I have something to give you."

Suddenly her image flickers like a candle about to go out.

"You have something to give to me? How is that even possible, I don't even know you!" I stutter, running a hand through in my hair.

"I don't have much time, I'll explain when you get here. Now, please, hurry. It's life and death," she urges and poof, she disappears.

I float in a sea of darkness for a while but then a beam of light shines through and I grope after it, desperate to escape the darkness. The light continues to get brighter and brighter and then suddenly my eyes are opening.

A dim fluorescent light shines above me and I look around. There are tubes poking from my arms and a heart monitor beeping. It takes me a minute to realize that I am in a hospital. I groan.

I must have fainted again after Chat Noir stopped me from escaping.

I turn my head to find Chat and Queen Bee sleeping soundly in hospital beds and I can't help but feel guilty for what I am about to do. Which is, of course, escape.

Carefully, I remove the tubes from my arm, creating tiny slices of blood across my arm. Luckily, the machines don't go off and I am able to move about freely without waking the sleeping heroes. I swing my legs over the bed and slowly stand up. That's when I realize that I am only wearing a paper hospital gown that left nothing to the imagination. Blushing I glance around the room for more... appropriate clothing for the street but all I find is a large green tee shirt and black sweatpants.

"Those will have to do," I murmur, grabbing them from the chair they sat. I then begin my search for the bathroom.

In the bathroom, I roll up the waist of the sweatpants up a few times since they're huge and throw the tee-shirt on. Checking myself once in the mirror and cringe at how terrible I look but beggars can't be choosers and it covered more than the hospital gown. I creak the door open quietly and see Chat Noir snoring quietly and Queen Bee tossing and turning; both still fast asleep.

I couldn't even imagine how exhausted they are, rescuing people and fighting crime all the time. The life of a superhero, it's not exactly as glamorous as it seems. And, now, I'm about to make it worse. But, it's not like I have a choice, I can't burden them anymore. I shuffle out of the room and into the brightly lit hallway and luckily I see a red exit sign near a set of chairs. I swiftly walk-run (in case a nurse catches me) and push softly against the door. It opens with a click.

I take the stairs two by two, struggling to keep the sweatpants from dragging against the ground.

"Curse, whoever these clothes belong to," I mutter to myself, pulling the sweatpants up past my waist for the third time.

Obviously, whoever they belonged to is bigger than me. A feat that isn't hard to accomplish but, seriously? Couldn't the clothes be a little closer to my size?

Finally, I reach the bottom of the stairs and exit the hospital and inhale some car exhaust. I cough quietly and study my surroundings. The sky is changing from midnight to pink and orange from the burst of the slowly rising sun, the sight is beautiful but I have no time spare. Remembering Madame's instructions, I take a right, my bare feet padding against the concrete sidewalk.

A few homeless people lay on the heat grates trying to keep warm. My heart sinks at watching them but I have nothing to give them. Sirens blare in the distance and I hear a gunshot but I keep walking. I did, after all, come to New York City, for this reason, it's dangerous. My stepmom would never go after me here. She values her own life too much. I round the corner of the sidewalk when I suddenly heard the shriek of a child.

"Help!" a voice squeaks and without thinking I run in the opposite direction and into a poorly lit alleyway.

"Stop screaming ya twit! No one's gonna hear ya!" a deep voice growls and I hear the child whimper. I round a corner and that's when I see it:

A heavyset man in dark clothes doing unmentionable things to a little girl.

"Help!" she shrieks again, kicking out at him but he catches her leg and twists it an unnatural angle.

"Shut up or I will snap your neck! Your mother didn't pay and therefore you must." He bellows and the girl cringes but doesn't make a sound.

He moves over again, obscuring her from view and I snap myself to action, trying to formulate a plan. I don't have a weapon so attacking is out of the question not to mention he is a giant. There is no one around to get to help so the last option is to distract him with something. My eyes scan the alley quickly and then land on a rusty metal trash-can lid. Perfect.

Quietly, I tip-toe closer to them, keeping to the shadows. The man groans in pleasure and the girl lets out a sob. I throw the lid.

SMACK!

It hit the man right on the side of his head, knocking him out.

"Quickly, come with me" I whisper, reaching forward to the girl and pull her arm. She doesn't budge, her brown doe eyes still covered in tears.

"C' mon, I don't know how long that will distract him. We need to run." I snap and she gazes at me and nods in understanding.

"Good, now let's go," I say and we take off out of the alley.

Once we reach the McDonald's on the main street, I stop running and she rams into my back.

"Sorry," she murmurs, fidgeting with her brown dreadlocks.

"Don't be, I was a little abrupt in my stopping. Now can you tell me your name?" I ask, kneeling down to meet her eyes.

"Joy," she whispers, avoiding my eyes.

"I'm Coco," I say and offer her my hand to shake.

She glances at me and then backs down the street as if she is looking for someone. Seeing no one, she heaves a sigh of relief and shakes my hand.

"Nice to meet you, Coco, I don't know what would've happened to me," she gulps and a tear escapes from her eyes. Gently I use my thumb to wipe it away.

"Well, you don't need to worry now. But if you don't mind me asking, what were you doing being out and in a dark alley at this time of night?" I ask.

She folds her hands and unfolds them and then stutters, "It's...complicated."

I sigh but don't press the issue further. My major concern, after all, should be to get this girl to safety.

"I understand but let me at least take you home," I reply.

"No, don't take me home, please!" she begs, falling to her knees and it takes all my strength not to break down. This poor girl must have been through so much.

Gently, I pull her into a hug and methodically begin to rub circles on her back.

"Ok, I won't take you home. Is there a safe place you could go, though?" I question.

She nods and points in the opposite direction, "Quetzalcoatl, it's a store that's only two blocks that way,' Joy whispers.

I stand up, shaking the dirt off my pants and reach out for her hand.

"Well, you are in luck. That is where I am heading as well," I say, offering her a small smile.

"Really?" she chirps, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"Yes, now let's get you off the streets," I reassure and we start to walk, retracing our steps.

For a few minutes, we walked hand in hand in a comfortable silence studying the concrete building and metal rod headlights. It seriously gave me a sense of déjà vu, reminding me of the night Chat saved me. But that was a one-time thing though, right? Before I could answer myself, Joy breaks the silence.

"Coco," she whispers.

"Hmph...." I murmur, watching a car fly by.

"Why did you save me?" she asks, her doe eyes studying me closely.

"Why wouldn't I save you?" I counter, meeting her eyes.

" I dunno... I guess it's just, most people would just turn the other way," she answers.

I scowl, "That's horrible."

She shrugs, "That's New York City for you,"

"But what about the police?" I inquire. Certainly, the police would take action.

"Police rarely patrol the seedy part of town. We aren't rich or important," she mutters, clutching her free fist.

"But your still human beings that deserve to live in safety," I protest, my heart sinking. If only I could do something, but I am a foreigner. I know nothing about American law enforcement let alone the politics involved in increasing safety.

"Clearly, that doesn't matter to them," Joy spits on the street.

"It matters to me," I murmur softly and squeeze her hand.

She gives me a genuine smile, revealing crooked teeth. I grin back.

"Joy, what about the Superheroes?" I inquire, thinking back to Queen Bee and Chat Noir. Surely they wouldn't just stand by and watch a little girl get abused.

"They do care but they are only three people with millions of crimes," Joy replies.

"Oh," I deflate. How did I not think of that! New York City is huge, there's no way they can save everybody. It is statistically impossible.

"They do try though," Joy adds, clearly seeing my dejection.

"I am sure they do," I agree. I couldn't imagine Chat Noir or Queen Bee not trying. In fact, the crimes they don't stop probably would keep them up at night. It would keep me up at least. I got to give them credit, they have a tough job and I just made it harder by running, but no going back now.

We stop at the edge of the sidewalk, waiting for the red hand palm to switch to the white shadow of a person. A black SUV zooms past, splashing a puddle on us and a middle-aged man in short neon running shorts runs up to us and waits for the light turn. The Walkman blinks on and we cross the street quickly. My number one rule of thumb: never trust another driver. I learned that the hard way.

A Starbucks sign lights up, the opening workers setting up for another day. Next to the Starbucks is a small window full of antique looking Tikki vases and jewelry with a carved wooden sign that reads, Quetzalcoatl.

"Well, here we are," I mutter studying the store suspiciously. The inside is pitch black giving off an ominous vibe that I didn't like.

"How about we go into Starbucks and wait for the store to open," I suggest, starting to corral Joy into the door. BANG! Something wizzes an inch from my face and instantly I drop to the ground, pulling Joy beneath me.

"Give me the girl," someone grunts and I glance over and see a tall bean-pole of a man, holding a gun.

"Over my dead body!" I spit at him and he sighs.

"If that's what you wish but it would be easier if you just give me her. She belongs to my master now," he states calmly, loading another bullet in his gun.

"Joy doesn't belong to anyone!" I shout and find a rock (that just happened to be there, lucky me) and throw it at him with all my strength.

It hits him in the chest, making him stumble a bit and I shove Joy into the Starbucks where four terrified employees watch in horror.

"Get shelter, now! I'll distract him!" I command and they scamper away with Joy in tow to the storage room.

BANG!

A bullet hits me in the shoulder and I cry out, falling against the window, clutching the spot, my hand coming wet with blood. I swallow hard, trying not to throw up and force myself up with my good hand. Footsteps sound in front of me and I attempt to stand and fight back. A hand pushes me against the window and suddenly the cold barrel of the gun is pointed at the side of my head.

"I told you we didn't have to do this," the man snarled,

I sent him a glare, "Yes, we did. You gave me no choice," I snap, watching the blood trickle down in little rivers over my pale skin.

The man sighs and jerks my face towards him.

"Any last words, beautiful?"

I spit in his face and he fires at my stomach.

I howl, falling to the ground and curling myself into a ball.

The man stoops down to look at me and that's when I notice the giant crescent scar marring half of his face.

"Nice face, I'm sure you get all the ladies," I cough, blood pouring out.

His lips twist into a smirk and he sends a kick at my stomach.

My vision blurs, building merging into the lamplights, a messy watercolor of color that I could no longer decipher.

"You're a Dick," I slur, vomiting blood on his shoes.

"And you're a bitch. Enjoy your last breaths," he says, giving one final kick to my injured shoulder.

I curl in on myself, hands pressing against my wounds, fruitlessly trying to stop the bleeding. I guess there is a piece of my brain that won't give up hope of surviving. As I watch his shadow melt into the alley, my eyes begin to feel heavy from struggling.

"Well, this wasn't the way I thought I'd go," I mutter to myself.

Maybe being poisoned by my Stepmom or beaten to death by my Stepfather. However, after I escaped, I always thought that I would get to live a normal life. That I'd move to the American countryside, find a decent job, rent a house or even buy a small one. Maybe even marry and have a family of my own and then quietly live out the rest of my days until I died, probably of old age. Not be shot twice and bleed out on the sidewalk of New York City.

I should've known that life is and always will be cruel. At least it was for a good cause I think to myself, Joy's round baby face flickers through my mind. I could die happily knowing I helped her. My only regret; not thanking my stepsister nor Chat and Queen Bee, but what could I do?

I heave a sigh and close my eyes.


	11. The New Ladybug

Song For This Chapter: 

Miraculous Ladybug TV Theme Song 

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iiq2qS1Alzw>

 

Coccinelle's Point of View

My first thought is that I am in heaven. Everything is coated in white and my body feels weightless as if I was floating. Then I remember that pain probably doesn't exist in heaven and that my entire body feels like it's being engulfed in flames.

That's when I hear a familiar voice, "Ms. Sauver? Can you hear me?" it asks and I struggle to answer, but no words come out.

I feel a pressure on my chest and lips against mine and the pushing of air through my throat.

"C'mon, wake up!" the voice shouts, pounding on my chest then blowing air again.

Suddenly, I gasp my eyes opening wide.

"Oh, thank God! I thought I was too late!" a voice heaves and I turn and see a bunch of frizzy red hair.

"Signora?" I rasp, my throat feeling like sandpaper.

"In the flesh," she responds, handing me a cup of water.

"Thank you," I say and chug it down in one sitting.

"How am I still alive?" I ask, placing my cup on the wooden floor beside me. That's when I realize that am no longer on the sidewalk but on a soft mattress surrounded by thick red brick walls.

"Where am I?" I question, trying to get up but a stabbing pain shoots through my body, forcing me to lay back down.

"My shop, of course, but before you ask any more questions, I need to give you something," she states and I nod, suddenly remembering the dream.

Signora then reaches into her tan cardigan sweater pocket and pulls out a tiny black box with a red engraving on it.

I furrow my brows and ask, "What is that?"

"Take it," she smiles.

Carefully I pick up the box and place it in my lap.

I look back up at her and force a smile, "Thank you, it's lovely."

Signora chuckles, her eyes crinkling.

"What's so funny?" I murmur, feeling heat creep up into my cheeks.

She shakes her head and clears her throat, "Open it, Ms. Sauver,"

My eyes widen and I flush in embarrassment. Of course, the gift is in the box! How stupid can I be!

"Oh! Sorry, I should've known that!" I stammer, picking out the box again and trace my fingers around it, feeling for the opening. I find a latch with my thumb and pry it open to reveal a pair of circular red earrings with black spots.

"They're beautiful," I breathe, picking up one to study it closely. They looked like rubies specked with small black gems that sparkled in the sunlight. I place it gently back in the box and hand it back to Signora.

"I can't take these. They must cost a fortune and I hardly know you," I say. How could I take something so precious from someone I hardly knew? It's simply not right.

"No, their yours. Put them on," she demands and I comply, poking each one through the tiny hole in my ear.

Suddenly, a bright pink sparkly light explodes, coating the room in a warm glow. I shield my eyes with my good arm and turn away. But as sudden as it was, it vanished. Warily, I lower my arm and look around.

The room still has its red brick walls in which hung various Christian paintings. The pinewood dresser ( which I just noticed) lay against the wall. A heavy floral quilt still covers me. I shiver, now uncomfortable. I swear there was this pink light that coated everything in its magical glow but now...it's gone. As if, nothing ever happened.

I turn to speak to Signora when I spot a tiny bobblehead red and black creature floating above her. I gasp, my eyes popping out their sockets. Kind of like those cartoons' do when they see something impossible. And, truly, this qualifies as impossible because then it begins to speak.

"Hello, Coccinelle. I'm Tikki," it whispers in a soft angelic voice.

I wave hesitantly at her, still not trusting myself to talk.

The creature, Tikki then turns to Signora and asks, "Is she mute?"

Signora snorts, "No, I think you just shocked her is all,"

"Oh, sorry Coccinelle. It's been so long since I have been with a human who doesn't know," Tikki apologizes, it's sky-blue eyes welling with tears.

Feeling guilty, I clear my throat and croak, "It's ok, don't cry Tikki. But, if you don't mind telling me, what exactly are you?"

"I am a girl ladybug Kwami. I grant powers to people in order to help fight evil and protect people," Tikki chirps, a smile lighting up her face.

"So, you have powers that basically make people Superheroes?" I question. I wonder if Chat Noir and Queen Bee have a Kwami as well? Maybe that's what Queen Bee was hiding! Speaking of them though, they probably know I am missing and are going to kill me. My heart rate starts to speed up and I force myself to take a deep breath. One thing at a time.

"Yes, kwami's created superheroes," she confirms, her eyes showing concern.

"So, do Chat Noir and Queen Bee have Kwamies ?"

"Yes," she answers.

"And you will be a superhero as well," Tikki continues and I almost choke on my own spit.

"What!" I shout, making Tikki fly out of range. Me? Be a Superhero? Ridiculous! I tell myself. I couldn't even defend Joy, how could I possibly protect a city or defeat a villain if I couldn't do that.

"I think you have the wrong person," I protest, holding up my arms but wincing from the wound in my shoulder.

"I know this is a lot to take in but you are the chosen one. Your destiny is to be the next Ladybug," Signora says, her eyes soft with pity.

I shake my head and try to get out of bed but end up doubling in pain.

"Stop trying to get out of bed. You have two major bullet wounds that need to heal!" Signora snaps, pushing me gently back on the bed.

"How long will that take?" I groan, unhappy with being bedridden again.

"Depends on whether or not you accept your destiny as Ladybug," Tikki answers, hovering above my head.

"What do you mean?" I inquire, stifling a yawn.

"Well, the Ladybug has the power of Creation and healing. If you accept your duty, it could help you heal better," Tikki responds.

"How do I do that?"

"Simple: Just say, SPOTS ON," Tikki giggles and I give her a weak smile.

"Are you sure I am the chosen one for this? I don't know if I am strong enough to do this, especially on my own," I ask, worried about the future of humanity. I have no experience what's so ever.

"You won't be alone, silly! You'll have your partner and all the other superheroes!" Tikki proclaims and I sigh, at least I wouldn't be alone. But, who's my partner?

"Chat Noir, he has the black cat power of destruction," Signora interjects and I flush crimson.

"I said that out loud didn't I?" I mumble and Tikki giggles.

"Great, and you can't be serious Chat Noir?" I demand, panic setting in, my heart racing. Chat Noir, the god-like man who would be happy-go-lucky at one moment and serious in another. Chat Noir, who is great at his job, who is very kind and caring even if he is a little overprotective and cocky. Chat Noir, the man who seemed...broken.

"Yes, you know him already?" Tikki questions, raising an eyebrow.

"It's... a long story," I sigh.

"Well we have time, but I think you should decide if you accept your fate," Signora says and I gulp.

I never considered that things like fate or destiny could possibly exist but seeing it face to face, changes your opinion I guess. And, to be honest it's exciting and terrifying. I could do extremely well as a Superhero or epically fail but the first step is to accept.

Accept, who I am and take charge of protecting the millions and billions of people who need protection. Who am I to deny them that? But what if I fail them? What if Signora and Tikki are wrong? My breathing hitches and tears start to build up behind my eyes. I curse silently and force myself to take deep breaths.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

"Coco?" Tikki prompts and I look up at her.

"What?" I sputter, still struggling to contain my fear.

"You won't have to do it alone. Don't be afraid," she says and I bite my lip, thinking.

But, what was there to think about? I wasn't about to let people suffer.

I clear my throat and say, "Ok,"

"Ok?" they ask in sync confusion clear in their expressions.

I nod and give a small smile, then whisper, "Spots On."


	12. Security Cameras

Song For This Chapter: 

Runnin' - Adam Lambert 

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4UFDgLsSyzA>

 

Narrator's Point of View

While Coco was accepting her destiny as the future Ladybug, outside two superheroes, one dressed as a cat the other like a bee, were frantically searching for her. They had just woken up two hours ago to find her bed empty and her IV needles covered with blood.

Her blood.

At first, Chat Noir and Queen Bee thought she was just confused and wandering around the hospital, however, when they searched the place top to bottom, there was not a trace of the violet-eyed girl. To state it simply, Chat Noir was furious. He hunted down the nurse, Steve, despite Queen Bee's protests to think logically and pinned him against the wall.

"Where is she?" he growls his eyes shifting from green to black.

"Where is who?" Steve stammers, his bald head gleaming with sweat.

"What do you mean who?" Chat snarls, slamming hard against the wall.

"I don't know who you are referring to Mr. Noir," the man replies, his legs visibly shaking.

"Coco," Chat Noir spits.

Steve flinches, "Coco, I don't know a Coco sir."

"She has black hair with silver highlights and violet eyes," Queen Bee adds, her lips pursed.

She hated when Chat Noir was angry, it made him irrational and violent. And... It made her terrified and it shook her up. He was her father, after all, she loved him, but she was afraid someday he would snap and end up doing something he'd regret. This was one of these moments, where she felt helpless to help her hurting father.

Steve glances at Queen Bee for a second and his eyes widen in realization, "You mean Snow White? That's the nurses' nickname for her!"

Queen Bee nods quickly, thinking the sooner this man is let go, the better.

"Yes, now where is she?" Chat Noir demands, lifting him by the neck.

"Well, I checked on you when you went to sleep and came back an hour later and she was still there so she must've left three hours ago, I was on emergency duty then," the man gasps, his face turning red.

Instantly Chat Noir drops him like a sack of potatoes and wipes his hands on his suit.

"Thank you for your corporation," he mutters and sprints down the hall.

Queen Bee sighs in annoyance and helps the poor man to his feet.

"Sorry, he's just a little upset right now. It's not your fault," She apologizes and then runs after Chat Noir.

"Chat, wait up!" Queen Bee yells, growing tired of the constant running.

"We've got to find her Queen and I'll tear this place apart if I have to!" Chat growls.

"Wouldn't it be easier to check the security cameras rather than run all over the building. You're scaring the poor people and they are already scared enough! It's a hospital for Christ's sake!" Queen Bee argued, pulling him to a complete stop.

"That... is actually a brilliant idea Queenie!" he shouted, excitement shining through his eyes.

"I know, I'm full of them," she sasses but Chat Noir was already walking up to another nurse.

"Chat, wait!" Queen Bee exclaims, running a hand over her ponytail.

Chat Noir turns to her with a quizzical expression that is quickly replaced with annoyance.

"What?" he snaps.

"Let me do the talking. You are not thinking straight," she replies, walking up to the petite Asian nurse who was now looking at them as if they had two heads.

Chat Noir huffed but seeing the logic in Queen Bee's thinking, steps aside to let her past. Sometimes, he didn't know what he would do without her, he thought to himself.

"You'd probably be dead without her," Plagg snickers in the back of his mind.

"Shut up," he snaps back but secretly he agreed with him. Chat Noir then turns his attention to the present situation.

"Excuse me, nurse..." Queen Bee says, her voice trailing off, (not knowing her name, of course) and glances subtly at her name tag: it read Lucy in black lettering.

"Nurse Lucy, can you tell us where the security room is?" she asks.

"Of course, Miss. Bee, it's on the tenth floor, room 300," Nurse Lucy replies.

"Thank you," Queen Bee exclaims and her Chat Noir run to the nearest elevator.

Chat Noir pressed the up button at least a dozen times before it glowed yellow and a ding sounded. The doors slowly opened and they rushed in and Chat Noir pressed button ten multiple times Queen Bee slapped his hand away.

"Pressing the button a million times is not going to help Chat," she scolded and Chat Noir scoffed and crossed his arms.

"What's the plan if she left the hospital?" Queen Bee asks.

"We search the surrounding streets and request the help of Signora, I doubt she'd gone far," Chat states.

Queen Bee nods, glad that Chat hasn't completely lost his marbles.

The elevator groaned and began its ascent up the shaft and landed on the tenth floor dinged and the doors opened.

They rushed forward into the middle of the hallway.

"300 must be this way," Chat says, looking at the plate with the number 250.

"Ok, Let's go then," Queen Bee chirps.

People, of course, are shocked to see two superheroes running down the corridors but they didn't dare to stop them. They are their protectors after all. Eventually, they turn the corner and stop.

"Where's door 300?" Queen Bee pants, glad to finally stop running.

"I dunno, I guess we missed it," Chat Noir replies, running a hand through his blond locks.

" I don't think so Chat, the last door said 299, it must be down here," Queen Bee says, continuing down the vacant hallway.

"But, there's no plates on the doors down here, Queenie," Chat Noir protests.

"So? It's probably still down here," Queen Bee argues.

Suddenly, a piece of the wall slid open and two security guards walked out.

"I think we just found it Chat," Queen Bee calls and together they sprint into the room.

The room was full of screens, hundreds of them lining each wall and a small desk with a Dell laptop where a ginger security guard sat reading the New York Times.

Ahem * Ahem, Chat coughs and the man jumps two feet in the hair, the newspaper flying everywhere.

"Chat," Queen Bee groans, bending down to help the man clean up his newspaper.

"Well, he wasn't doing his job," Chat snaps and the man's pale skin flushes bright red.

"Sorry Mr. Noir sir, I was just checking the score for last night's Yankee's game real quick," the man stammers.

"You should be fired on the spot, checking a Yankee's score when people's lives could be in danger!" Chat yells.

The man then starts to shake, his eyes welling with tears.

"Please, Mr. Noir. Don't fire me. I have a family," he begs, getting down on his knees before Chat.

"Let this serve as a warning then. You are in charge of keeping people safe in this hospital. You need to be vigilant, one moment of distraction can lead to the loss of life. Are you willing to have that on your shoulders?" Chat threatens his eyes the color of coal.

The man gulps and shakes his head, "I swear on my life Mr. Noir, I will be more vigilant and responsible. "

Chat stares him down for a few moments then nods in approval.

"Alright, I believe you. Now, down to business. Do you save all of the footage of the hospital?" he asks.

The guy scratched his head in confusion but answers; "Yes. We catalog all our footage. Why?"

"We were wondering if you could play us the footage from this morning. A patient went missing this morning and we wondering if you could replay to see what happened," Queen Bee explains.

"Yes, I believe we can do that Miss. Bee. I just need to know what part of the building the patient was located in and the exact time frame," the man replies, hands flying over the main keyboard on the desk.

"5th floor, right side, corner room, number 2015," Chat lists off and she glances at him in surprise. Chat Noir could hardly remember what he ate five minutes ago let alone where a certain hospital room was among thousands of others.

"Ok, just give me a second to locate that camera," he mutters, shorting through different video cams and footage.

"Thank you," Queenie answers giving her father a weird look.

"What? My memory isn't that terrible!" he defends, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What did we have for dinner last night then?" Queenie inquires nonchalantly, focusing again on the large computer screen.

"Ummm...Jeez, Queenie! I don't know! That was hours ago!" his cheeks flush red.

Queen Bee simply shakes her head, stifling a laugh.

"Don't you laugh at me! It's not like your memory is any better," he scolds.

"I'm not laughing," Queen Bee protests.

"Yes, you are! I can see it in your eyes!" Chat Noir declared.

Queen Bee was just about to protest when the man interrupts them;

"Found the camera. What's the time you're looking for?"

"6 am to 9 am," they answer simultaneously.

"Ok, I'll begin scrolling through the footage. Who exactly am I looking for?" the man inquires.

"A girl with black hair and silver highlights. She'll be hard to miss," Chat says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Ok," the man breathes, clicking twice on the play icon.

The footage was grainy, making it hard to get a clear view of anyone but there were cameras angled in every direction. The likelihood of Coco being caught on camera was exceptionally high. Around 6:30 they spotted a tiny figure with black hair with silver glinting in the low lighting.

"There! Follow her" Chat orders.

The man complies, showing figure quietly exit the room, trip over the two big sweatpants (they then realized the clothes were Chat's), and scramble to a door with a red exit sign hanging above. Before she disappears through the door, she stops. At first, she just stands there for a minute then directly looks into the camera, almost as if she could sense it. Her violet eyes are glimmering with tears, her bottom lip trembling, and slightly waves before exiting.

Absolute silence fills the office, the low humming of the massive computer being the only sound. Personally, I don't know what to think, let alone what to say.

"She left on her own accord," Chat Noir finally gasps, a frown marring his face.

"At least, we know she wasn't captured," Queen Bee responds, trying to look on the bright side.

"Not two and half-hours ago, at least. Who knows where she could be now," Chat grits he teeth, fighting hard to control his rage. How could Coco be so stupid! How could she just run away! He thought she trusted him! Chat thought to himself but then inhaled swiftly. He needs to focus, he has a job to do.

"Where does this door lead?" Chat demands, pointing at the screen.

"FDR North Street but to the right, you'll reach Lower East Side, I believe," he answers.

Chat Noir let out a few colorful curse words, clenching his fists. Of course, she would choose one of the worst parts of the city! She could be dead, Chat thought to himself.

"Thank you...." Queen Bee trails, off looking at the man to finish.

"Gary Wide, Miss. Bee. And it was my pleasure," he replies, a smile gracing his lips.

"Thank you, Gary, but we must leave," Chat says curtly.

Gary salutes him in response and Chat Noir and Queen Bee take off down the hallway.

"Do you want me to call Signora?" Queen Bee asks once they are a safe distance away from the security room.

"Yes, I'll do an air sweep of the streets and alleyways. Call back, once you've talked to her," Chat commands.

They reached a window at the end of the hallway and Chat Noir pulled open the window, letting a hot gust of wind in.

"Should we alert the police?" Queen Bee questioned, reaching for her yellow Yo-Yo.

"Not yet, let's see if we can find her first," Chat replies, extending his baton to his full length.

"Ok, I'll call you after I talk to Signora," Queen Bee says sliding the phone portion open and dialing her number.

Chat nods and jumps out of the window, flying across buildings with his baton.

"Be Careful!" Queen Bee calls out but her voice is drowned out in the mid-morning traffic.

She sighs, worry tugging at her heart but presses the call button on her phone.

The best thing she could do for her father now is to do her job.


	13. The Transformation

Song For This Chapter: 

Ladybug Transformation- Miraculous Ladybug 

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FvIChM4vF7o>

 

Coccinelle's Point of View

I wake up again in Signora's room, feeling much better. The wound in my shoulder and stomach were only moderate aches now, making it easier to sit up. The door creaks open and I tense up, grabbing the nearest object to defend myself. Signora walks in with a tray and I let out a breath of relief, collapsing on the bed, tossing my fearsome weapon ( a pillow) to the side.

"Sorry, did I scare you?" she chuckles, kneeling beside me and placing the tray on my lap

"Yeah, I think I'm so a little paranoid after what happened," I sigh, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

"I don't blame you. You've been through an ordeal. Are you feeling better?" she asks, studying me closely.

"Yeah, a lot better actually. Thank you so much." I answer, slowly reaching for the glass of water on the floor.

Signora hands the glass of water to me and says, "Thank your Miraculous."

I almost drop the glass of water and stare at her wide-eyed, "You mean, that wasn't a dream?"

I was so hoping it was. Not that I didn't like the alien-looking thing (I think that was called Tikki) she seemed really nice. Nor did I have problems having Superpowers, that seemed awesome. I just didn't want people's lives in my hands. I feared, I would screw up royally and there was no room to do that.

"Yes, it was real. See for yourself, look at what your wearing" she laughs, pointing at me.

I frown in confusion but comply, moving my gaze downward.

I do a complete double take. I am no longer wearing those big clothes but a red sparkly mesh suit with black polka dots. So sparkly it glowed in the shadows.

I glance up at Signora, speechless.

She laughs again and I flush brighter than my suit.

Slowly, I remove the sheets and swing my legs over the bed to study my new attire. The suit covers me from neck to foot and hugged every crevice of my body making me feel self-conscious. I couldn't help but note though how comfortable it is, it feels like new cotton. Along with the suit, there is a black belt that holds a red Yo-Yo.

"Here," Signora says, handing me a small hand-held mirror.

Covering my face is a matching mask that disguises my features except for my gray violent eyes. I pivot my head to the side and see the very same earrings that Signora gave me before I fell asleep. Then I notice my hair, not only was it no longer dirty but it is perfectly braided together in a Katniss Everdeen braid and intertwined with a red ribbon.

"What do you think?" Signora finally asks, her eyes glittering with excitement.

"It's amazing but what happened to Tikki?" I inquire looking around the room for the familiar floating red bobblehead.

"Inside of you," she answers, giving me a wicked grin.

"What!" I scream, jumping up and scanning my body.

"I'm here, in your head Coco. Not in your body." I hear a familiar voice whisper in the back of mind.

"Tikki?" I ask myself mentally.

"Hey Coco, sorry for not telling you about this part and for Signora's cruel joke."

she apologizes.

"How are you in my head?" I demand.

"That's a story for another day but the short answer, for now, is Magic," Tikki answers.

"Fine, but are you actually physically in my head?" I question.

I needed to know.

"No, just my essence," she giggles.

I sigh in relief. At least I won't die today for having an alien-looking creature inhabiting my brain.

Sitting back down, I glare at Signora, "Why did you freak me out like that?"

"Sorry, I just wanted to see your reaction and no offense, it was definitely worth it," she chuckles, hunching over her legs.

"Glad you find my fear amusing," I sass, taking half of what looks like peanut butter and fluff sandwich and taking a huge bite.

"Ok, I'm sorry. But you gotta admit, it was a little funny."

I shake my head at her.

"Fine, be a party pooper," she huffs, rising to her feet.

"Wait, where are you going?" I question, my mouth still full of food.

"Going to get Joy. She's been waiting for you to get better," she replies walking to the door.

I literally smack myself in the head in frustration after that. How could've I forgotten Joy! She was the only reason I am here in the first place.

"Wait! Oh My God! Is she ok?" I exclaim, attempting to rise to my feet. I would never forgive myself if she or anyone else was hurt.

"Yes, she and the Starbucks workers were unharmed thanks to you," she reassures me with a gentle smile.

"Thank God," I breathe, leaning back on the bed.

"Anything else before I leave to get her from school?" Signora asks, hands on her hips.

"Yes. Actually. How do I transform out of this and do you have a shower?" I ask, feeling sheepish.

Gosh, I sounded completely useless.

"First, to de-transform, say, 'Spots Off,'" she tells me.

"Ok," I reply, taking another bite of my sandwich. Gosh, it's good, I think to myself. It tastes like heaven if heaven could taste like anything. However, it might just be that I haven't eaten anything since the hotel.

"Second, there is a shower. It's out the door, down the hallway, and to the left. Everything that you need is in there. Also, I left you some of my clothes in there for you to use since they're closer to your size that Chat's."

I turn beet red with embarrassment for my stupidity. How could I not have guessed? He was the only tall person in the room! Oh my gosh, though, what will he do if he found out I stole his clothes!

I gulp, imagining a black-eyed Chat staring into my soul. Signora laughs at my expression and I scowl.

"Don't worry Coco, he won't care. Actually, he'll be as free as a bird that a beautiful girl is wearing his clothes,"

Beautiful, huh? I thought to myself. That's the second time someone called me beautiful besides Chat. What do they see in me that is Beautiful?

"How do you know Chat Noir?" I finally ask, my curiosity getting the best of me.

Signora twists a loose curl between her fingers and smirks; "That's for me to know and you to find out."

Before I could say anything else, she leaves, her boots clanking behind her.


	14. Hidden Origins

 

Song For This Chapter: 

Go The Distance- From Disney's Hercules

Performed By Shawn Hook & KHS

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FvIChM4vF7o>

 

Coccinelle's Point of View

 

I let out a frustrated sigh. The curiosity is going to kill me. However, I should respect her privacy. She probably has her secrets like everyone else. I know I do and I didn't appreciate it when Chat Noir tried to pry them out of me, even if he was only doing his job. I just should be grateful that she took me in and gave me a power I don't think I will ever deserve.

"Don't say that Coco. You are definitely worthy of the Ladybug Miraculous. Your kind and brave," Tikki chastises.

"Well, thanks Tikki. That's very sweet of you to say," I reply.

"It's true, believe in yourself," she says.

"Easier said than Done," I tell her.

"I know it may seem impossible right now, but you will be a great Ladybug. I believe in you," she encourages.

"You know, you should be a motivational speaker or something," I exclaim.

"I'll keep that in mind," she giggles.

"It'll be your backup plan if I fail," I joke.

"You'll be fine Coccinelle. This is your destiny," Tikki declares.

I sigh but decide to let the topic drop.

"How do I de-transform again, Tikki?" I inquire.

I had already forgotten what Signora said mere minutes ago.

Way to Go Brain!

"Just say Spots off and you'll return to your civilian self," she informs.

"Ok," I say out loud, taking a deep breath.

"Tikki, Spots Off!" I yell and same sparkly pink light appears.

I close my eyes as it brushes against my body like falling rose petals, enjoying the sensation. Seconds later, the feeling is gone and I open my eyes. I am me again in Chat Noir's tee shirt and sweats, now crusted in blood.

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up," Tikki squeaks, her tiny body floating beside my head.

"Ok," I agree, carefully rising to my feet.

My vision tilts for a minute but I steady myself and it clears.

" You ok?" Tikki asks, concern in her teardrop-shaped eyes.

"Yeah, was just a little dizzy for a second," I reply.

"Don't push yourself, alright?"

I beam up at her and gently reach my hand out to her and stroke her head. Tikki snuggles into my hand and I giggle.

I walk out of the bedroom with Tikki in tow.

The house/shop is made of old red brick walls and faded wooden floors with paint splatters and sawdust everywhere. Along the walls, various close up photographs of different animals stare back at me. One that really caught my eye was a close up of a brown spotted owl that eerily had the same neon yellow-green eyes as Signora.

I come to a landing with spiraling stairs that seems to go one forever and made a left into another hallway but this one is covered by Frida Kahlo paintings, a famous Mexican woman artist is known for her dark unibrow.

"I guess she is into Art?" I muse, stopping at a painting of a field of sunflowers.

" Her parents were. Signora's mom was a photographer and her father was a painter," Tikki replies.

"Oh wow," I gasp.

Tikki laughs.

"What do your parents do?" Tikki questions.

I turn away from the paintings, not entirely sure what to say.

I am from an orphanage. I have no idea who my real parents are, let alone what their occupations are or (were). My "adopted" parents or stepparents are high-class. My stepmom is the daughter of the former Parisian Mayor and a known model. My stepfather is the current Mayor of Paris. Both of them owned a popular hotel called Le Roi Sauveur.

Despite their outward appearance of kindness and goodwill though, it is only an act. Really, they are leaders of an underground criminal ring of sorts (my Stepsister and I spied on them) but I (or we) could never find out what they did exactly. Back to the point though, I couldn't tell Tikki that. I hardly know her after all. So I go with the first option.

I swallow back the tears, "I don't know. I never knew them,"

"Oh dear, I didn't know. I'm sorry," Tikki apologizes, nuzzling against my cheek.

"It's alright, there was no way for you to know," I reassure her, petting her petite head gently.

"If you don't mind me asking though..." Tikki trails off, uncertainty clouding her expression.

"Ask away," I encourage, offering her a small smile.

If she is going to be my strength, then I might as well tell her the truth.

"What happened to them?"

"Not sure, my previous guardian told me I was dropped off at the orphanage when I was baby until I was adopted by them at thirteen," I sigh, remembering the day my stepmom sat me down on the red velvet window seat overlooking the Place of de l'Étoile and the famous Arc de Triomphe and explained the little she knew about my origins.

It was actually one of the only times she treated me like a human. Her expression was soft with her sky blue eyes twinkling and upturn of her glossy lips, an almost smile.

My lack of memory before the age of thirteen makes it hard to confirm her story. I tend to lead towards that it isn't true for brief flashes and dreams that seemed too real to be imagined. A reoccurring image was a woman with stormy grey eyes and black hair looming above my face, talking to me but I couldn't hear her.

Then there was a piercing scream and red and black blurred together and a bloodied striped blazer. I can't make sense of it though. It's like on the tip on my tongue but to this day, I still didn't know and I am not sure I will ever.

But, I won't give up.

Tikki interrupts my soliloquy, saying; "Oh, dear. That must be hard. I'm sorry."

"It's just the way it is. Nothing to be sorry about" I reply and continue to walk down the hallway.

Two rooms line each side of the narrow hallway but the doors were closed shut, holding tight to its secrets. At the end of the hallway, there was a chipped yellow door left ajar, revealing a bathroom with ruby flower wallpaper and a tope colored sink and tub with a rusted shower head and dim circle lights.

"Wow, I feel like I just traveled back in time," I mutter.

"That's because it hasn't been redone since the seventies," Tikki giggles.

"Oh, are you sure the shower still works in here?" I ask, eyeing the rusted shower spout with suspicion.

"Yes, of course silly," Tikki proclaims.

"Ok, don't blame me if something breaks then," I warn her and turn the water on.

"The soap, shampoo, and conditioner are on the ledge inside," Tikki tells me, pushing the curtain open to reveal three identical pink bottles.

"Thanks," I say.

"No problem, and, oh! I almost forgot the towel and clothes are on the toilet."

"Oh, good. I guess it would be quite scandalous to walk around the house naked," I snort.

"Yeah, that wouldn't be good," Tikki chuckles.

I pull the little lever on the spout and the shower sings its high pitched tune until the water is rushing out in a waterfall.

"Ok, I'll leave you to it then," Tikki chirps and flies out of the bathroom.


	15. Scars and Diamonds

Song For This Chapter: 

Warrior - Demi Lovato 

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FvIChM4vF7o>

 

Coccinelle's Point of View

Gently, I close the door and remove Chat's blood-caked clothing and hop in the shower. Hot water pelts against my back and I sigh, letting it loosen my tense muscles. These past few days have been quite stressful. I pick up the pink bottle labeled Shampoo and squirt some into the palm of my hand. The scent of strawberries and vanilla hits my nose and I smile. It was the exact shampoo I used before I ran away. I scrub my hair thoroughly and then run the conditioner through my hair.

"I can't remember the last time I got a relaxing shower," I murmur to myself, grabbing the soap and slathering it all over my body. Back home, I was only allowed a five-minute shower every two days in order to conserve water. At least, that was the excuse. My "Step-parents" had plenty of water but I wouldn't dare argue.

I rinse myself, revealing various scars trailed up and down my body. I located a long crescent one traced against my stomach and shutter.

I received that one when I was fifteen.

The snow was dancing amongst the wind as I dusted the windowsill in my yellow maid's uniform. Footsteps sound behind me and I instantly climbed off the ladder, fixing my stained white apron.

My stepmom entered wearing a yellow tight pencil skirt paired with a white blouse and black pumps. Her honey-blond hair was swept into a high ponytail to reveal her heavily made-up face.

Scowling, as per usual, my stepmom otherwise known as Madame Chloe Bourgeois Dábel made her way over to me and jutted her bony finger out at me;

"Where is my diamond necklace! I know you took it!" she exclaimed.

"I dunno Madame, I didn't take it," I stuttered, taking a couple of steps backward.

"Lies!" she growled, clenching her fists.

"I'm not lying Madame! I didn't even know you had a diamond necklace," I cried.

Madame Chloe then slapped me, leaving a red hand print on my cheek.

I touched it gingerly and glared at her.

"Madame, I did not take your necklace. Why don't you ask Lia? She was in your room last!" I growled.

At first, she said nothing, her mouth opens wide in shock. I had never defended myself before. I always took the blame for everything but something that day made me snap. Her eyes then narrowed and a sneer marred her lips.

"How dare you!!!!" she snarled, grabbing hold of my forearm.

"How dare I?" I inquired, attempting to free myself from her grasp.

Madame Chloe tightened her grip and pulled me across the parlor and dining room to a small white closet door. It opened and my stepfather, known as Mayor Corbin Dábel, stands, holding a rusted Scythe. He smiled at my stepmom then gave me a deathly glare.

"Non est meus proximus subiecto?" he said in Latin (I think), his mustache twitching.

"Sic amica mea. Quod placuerit vobis" she replied, shoving me towards him.

"Tibi gratias ago tibi, mi regina" my stepfather smirks, planting a chaste kiss on her lips.

"Grata tua," stepmother murmured.

My stepfather grabbed hold of my shoulders and tossed me down a flight of stairs.

I groaned and sat up. The side of my head was pounding and my leg was bent a strange angle. My stepfather followed after, closing the door behind him, and enveloping us in complete darkness.

And then, there was a glowing orange ball floating in midair.

"Sir?" I whispered, not liking the feeling of being completely in the dark.

"Don't speak," he barked and I gulped.

The light flickered as came closer and I was able to make out the face of my stepfather. He was sneering, making his coarse mustache twitch and his eyes reminded me of shiny, black beetles. Suddenly, his face vanished underneath the shadows and light flickered off. I heard the shuffle of footsteps and some "tick" "tick" noises and a giant red flame twisted into the air and illuminating the whole room.

That's when I noticed all the various tools and contraptions displayed along the walls. On one wall there was this Egyptian metal coffin with spikes sticking out of it and a weird looking pole and a jagged saw. The opposite wall held a long line of axes, swords, whips, and a wooden table that seemed to have strings and a crank attached to it.

"Sit here," my stepfather grunted, pointing to a rusted metal chair.

I sat down carefully, clenching my hands to keep from trembling.

"Don't move!" he barked, jabbing a finger into my chest and he left, vanishing into the darkness surrounding the metal Egyptian coffin.

What is he going to do to me? I asked myself staring at the various instruments stained with dried blood. Did I really deserve this for apparently stealing a necklace? Sure, it was a diamond one but was it worthy of knives and whips? Why did he have all these "tools" anyway?

I hear a loud groan behind me and I turn my head slightly towards the back, confused on what it could be. Shadows swing over the floor illuminating an intricately carved chest and a rusted suit of armor. But there was no sign of life.

"Maybe it's a Zombie," I muttered to myself, shaking my head.

That's when the shrieking started. It was high and shrill tunneling through my ears, giving me a massive headache.

"Stop Screaming! No will be able to hear you!" my father snapped.

The screamer paused, as if taking a breath, and screeches, reminding me of what the Harry Potter mermaids sounded like outside of the water.

SMACK!

It stopped this time for good.

"Good girl," my father coed.

The screamer says nothing.

"No, tell me, where is the miraculous?" he demanded.

"What's a miraculous?" a clearly human voice answered.

"Guess that rules out screeching mermaid," I thought to myself.

"Who cares about that? There is a girl seemingly trapped in your fathers' basement," my conscious chastised.

"Touche," I agreed and peeked behind my chair to see if the coast was clear. The same shadows loomed over the wooden chest except for a bright crack of light that now outlined it. Tip-toeing across the floor I grab the nearest weapon (a metal crowbar) and walk over to the glowing chest.

"A trap door?" I ask myself, running my fingers on its worn edges.

"No, Pandora's box!" my conscience fires back.

"Shut up," I mutter out loud and slowly lift the lid. It creaks, its hinges worn out and rusted for lack of use. A spiral staircase descends into curtains of cobwebs and of course darkness. For a second, I debate whether or not I should risk the journey down but then I heard my father screaming.

"Don't play dumb!" my father bellowed.

"I am not playing 'dumb' sir," the girl answered.

CRACK, SNAP.

CRACK, SNAP.

CRACK. SNAP.

"Now, I will as you again..." my father panted, his breath hitching, "Where is the miraculous?"

" I already said I don't know what you are talking about Sir!" the voice snapped.

"Not the answer I wanted!" he growled.

CRACK. SNAP

CRACK, SNAP.

CRACK, SNAP.

CRACK, SNAP.

CRACK, SNAP.

CRACK, SNAP.

"Sorry I don't have the answer you want," the girl replied.

"Stop playing around girl! And tell me! Where is the Ladybug Miraculous?"

"I wasn't aware this was a game, Sir," she countered, avoiding the question.

"You must think me a real dumbass to think I wouldn't catch you! Now, where's the miraculous and who are you working for?" Stepfather seethed, his voice dripping off like acid.

"I thought I worked for you Sir," she stated.

"ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!!!!!!!" Father roared, the vibrations sending a shockwave through the whole house.

CRASH.

I could hear the glass screaming as if fell against the stone.

CRACK, SNAP.

It dawned me the hundredth time that the noise was the sound of a whip. He was lashing someone.

SLAM.

The door behind me closed and I jumped back, accidentally banging the chest lid with a THUMP.

"Shit," I cursed, scrambling back to my seat, rolling the crowbar under the shelf beside my chair. I didn't want stepfather to find it but still wanted it in reach if I had to defend myself. Which, I hoped I wouldn't but after what happened down there, I wasn't sure what to expect.

Footsteps rumbled up the steps, each step more pronounced the last, to invoke fear. As if, I wasn't already afraid enough. The door banged against the wood-paneled walls and a young woman was thrown against the wall in front of me.

"I see you couldn't wait for your punishment," stepfather commented, pulling a chair beside me and sitting.

"Want do you mean?" I mumbled.

"Don't play stupid. I had enough of stupid from that wench!" he growled, sending a kick at her side.

She whimpered and curled herself into a ball in order to protect herself.

"I honestly don't know what you mean though stepfather," I said, studying the girl with confusion. She had at least a foot of long wavy blond-red ombre hair that laid tangled knots beneath her and a pair of almond-shaped, olive-green eyes.

In all honesty, the girl was exotically beautiful but she was badly beaten up with scratches and bruises littering her arms and legs. Her white tee shirt was covered in a layer of blood with fresh slices of it rolling down her back. A purple oval-shaped bruise adorned her forehead, forming a ring.

What happened to her? I asked myself. Surely, stepfather hadn't done this to her right? I recall the whipping and swallow hard, suddenly terrified. Stepfather was torturing her but what was confusing was, why? Who was she?

My thoughts were interrupted when stepfather answered;

"You were eavesdropping! Don't you know it's impolite to do that!"

"I wasn't eavesdropping," I denied.

"Ok, so the trap door closed on itself then?" he snapped, crossing his muscled arms against his chest.

"Maybe it was the wind?" I suggested, my hands starting to sweat.

He chuckles, a weird glint shining in his eyes and a twisted smile on his lips.

Then he scowls and seizes my throat with his meaty hands.

"Wind my ass," he snarls, squeezing my neck.

I scratch at his hands, beginning to choke.

"Can't breathe, can you? Maybe it's the wind choking you," he taunts, tightening his grip.

I respond by kicking his goods.

"Mother- Fucker!" he screeches, dropping me to the floor and covering his balls.

I cough, sucking in air as fast as my lungs will allow and scramble to my feet.

A big hand grabs me and tosses me like a rag doll into a wall.

CRACK.

I sighed. I probably just broke one of my bones.

"Your feisty one, I like that," he says and kicks me in the stomach.

I curl into the fetal position in order to protect myself.

"Yes, curl yourself up like a baby, like that will protect you," he shouts, picking me up by the hair and slamming me down hard on the chair.

I bite my lip hard, drawing blood to keep from whimpering.

Stepfather chuckles at my pained expression and I attempt another kick but this time, to his face.

"Oh no you don't," he growled, catching my foot mid-air and twisting my leg a complete 360 degrees.

CRACK, CRACK, and a big POP ensued after and it took all of my strength not to scream out at the searing pain pulsing from my leg.

"Now that'll keep you from running away," he chirped, pushing me hard against the chair.

"What? No scream?" he mocked.

I glared at him, looking him straight in the eye.

He sneers, "We'll see if you're so tough after I'm done with you,"

"Now... what am I going to do with you?" Stepfather pondered out loud, tapping a soot-covered finger against his chin.

"How about you let me go?" I suggest, gritting my teeth.

"What's the fun in that?" he pouted then continued, " Besides, your Madame would kill me if I don't do my job,"

"You could always just lie, I won't tell," I rasp, tears threatening to break free.

Stepfather shook his head, "Nah, I think I want to torture you,"

"But, haven't you already..." I protested but he cuts me off, shoving his dirty finger against my lips.

"Shut the Hell Up. I need to total silence in order to concentrate," he demands

For a second, I thought about biting his finger but then decided that it would just make things worse. Not to mention he removed his finger just as the thought crossed my mind.

"Now, what to do, what to do," he murmured, placing around the room.

Grabbing a lighter, he went around the room, lighting the numerous metal candle chandeliers hanging above us. To this day though, I wish he hadn't. Against the one wall was a long row of shelves or human body parts from heads to hearts to rotting skin. The walls were clotted with rusted blood and in the corner, by the Egyptian coffin, he had a freshly decapitated head of the elderly butler Edgar who mysteriously disappeared after accidentally spilling the tea on stepmother.

I covered my mouth with my hand to keep from screaming when his eyeball popped, oozing a white liquid because a rat had started to chew it.

Stepfather caught my gaze.," Ah, do you like my art?"

"Why...." I trembled.

"Why? Because it's art," Stepfather proclaimed, stretching his arms out wide.

I shake my head and pitched myself, trying to wake myself from this nightmare.

" What had he ever done to you to deserve this....this cruelty."

"He was incompetent." father replied.

" Why because he spilled tea on Madame once?" I shrieked.

Father clutched my jaw hard with his meaty hands, crushing the delicate bones underneath.

" She could have been seriously hurt! That tea was impossibly hot," he growled.

" It was an accident, he didn't mean it. And if you were unsatisfied, you fire the person not murder them!"

Stepfather sneers, " He didn't deserve to live after that."

My mouth falls open in shock.

" What? Does that shock you?" stepfather chuckles.

I don't answer.

" You can't seriously think He desired to live! " he shouts, his grip on my jaw.

" How could say he didn't deserve to live?" I gasped, a sharp pain shooting up my face.

" He was old and weak. A waste of space."

" He was a human being just like us. He had the same rights!" I shouted, tears of anger pouring down my face.

" Hah! You think are on the same level as me, slut!" he growled.

I jerk my face away from him and stare in the eyes,

" Yes. You are not better than me, Stepfather."

Then, he slapped me, leaving a red imprint of his hand on my face.

" Looks like someone forgot her place! Don't worry, I'll jog your memory!" He growls and stomps over to the iron casket and picks up a crescent-shaped iron bar and flings it into the fire.

" What are you doing?" I stuttered.

Stepfather smirks, " Making you remember.

" I think I remember now."

He laughs and wacks me upside the head with the rod.

" Shut up."

I bit my lip to hold back a retort and watched him heat the rod that it turned an orange-red.

" Perfect," he murmured, withdrawing the rod from the flames, looking at me with malice.

I swallowed hard and began to sweat.

"You're afraid now, aren't you?" he taunted.

I shook my head, " You are the one who should be afraid. You're going to rot in hell."

Suddenly, he runs at me, teeth bared and rips open my shirt, exposing my stomach.

"You're going to regret ever saying that," he laughs and plunges the hot rod into my skin.

At first, I didn't feel anything, most likely due to my high adrenaline but then I felt like I was being cooked alive. It seared my skin, making it peel back into a mess of blood.

I writhed, trying to get away from it but Stepfather held me steady and increased the pressure.

" Stop!!!!!!!" I shrieked, trying to take hold of the rod.

" Oh, no you don't!" he says and twists my wrist with a crack.

Red cloaked my vision as I fought back against the throbbing of my wrist and the fire carving itself into my stomach.

" STOP!!!!!!!!PLEASE!!!!!!" I begged but he only laughed.

Black spots started to form and I swatted them.

I could not fall unconscious. God only knows what he would do to me then.

" Please...stop...." I begged, fighting my heavy eyelids.

" Say please master."

" No..." I protest but then I engulfed in the fire.

" Say it!" he bellowed.

" please master..." I said, gasping like a fish out of water.

"Good, Whore. Don't ever forget your place. You're lucky that I even let you breathe beneath my feet."

I only nod my tongue too heavy to talk.

" I will come back tomorrow. Don't move from this chair unless you would like another reminder...."

" No!" I shriek, my eyes popping open.

" I promise!" I continued, sobs racking my body.

" Good. I always knew you were a good girl, my whore," Stepfather mocked.

Immediately, the fire left but the pain was simply too much.

I fainted.


	16. Lavender Sage

Song For This Chapter: 

Remember Every Scar - Escape The Fate

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FvIChM4vF7o>

 

_Coccinelle's Point of View_

When I woke up, I was still tied to the chair in the basement but I couldn't remember anything.

Not Edgar's decapitated head being eaten by rats. Not the mysterious girl captive with strange blonde and red ombre hair. Not the breaking of my leg by my stepfather when I tried to run away. Not even the scorching fire inflicted on my stomach by the iron rod shaped like a crescent.

Everything was foggy, images and noises swirling together, making it impossible for my brain to clarify what is really true and what is not. To be honest, though, I think this was my brain's way of protecting me from the horrors and pain of that night.

Unfortunately, though, it forgot one tiny detail: You can't exactly erase the pain. It was a dull throb at first but when I tried to move it flared up, stretching from my right foot into my abdomen. And it with it, everything came rushing back. I bit down on my lip to keep from screaming out but a few whimpers escaped.

" You're awake!" a voice rasped and I turned to see the girl with blonde and red ombre hair sitting up against the side of the fireplace. She still looked pretty beat up with her eye now swollen and her arm hanging at an awkward angle but at least she was alive.

I opened my mouth to say something but ended up throwing up blood on the floor.

" You probably shouldn't try to speak, I think you might have fractured your jaw," she informed me.

I groaned and attempted to sit up, only to be greeted by a searing fire, igniting my veins.

" Or, move at all." she sighed, her olive eyes reflecting pity.

" I don't think I have a choice if you want to get out" I grounded out, trying to keep the black spots at bay.

She instantly sat up at that.

" You know how to get out?"

" Course. I live here." I muttered, gazing around the room for the staircase.

There was now light with candles burning in the wall torches, making it easier to navigate the basement.

The girl gasped, " You live here?"

I nodded, avoiding her gaze.

An awkward silence ensued with her expecting me to fill in the gaps. But there was no time to talk. I had to get her out of here. I had to get myself out of here. After a few minutes, my eyes spot the talk stone staircase leading up to the main floor.

" There's the exit." I murmured, gesturing my head in that direction.

" But doesn't that lead to the main floor? He'll catch us and then we'll both be six feet under!" she said, panic flooding her features.

" No, he won't. He's at work," I sighed, closing my eyes to alieve the pounding inside my brain. I wouldn't be surprised if I also earned myself a concussion in the skirmish either.

" How do you know?" she demanded.

" Because I'm his step-daughter and believe it or not I know when my father works." I spat.

She paled, "You're his daughter?"

" Only legally, not by blood," I answered.

" Oh," she muttered

" Who are you?" I asked, changing the subject.

The girl quirked a blonde eyebrow in surprise, " You don't know who I am?"

" No. Just because he's my father doesn't mean I have any idea of who he does his business with?" I snapped, instantly regretting it as pain rockets up my jaw.

" You think I do business with him? Do you even know what he does?" she hissed, her eyes glowing with fury.

I sighed, " I said no already but I know its nothing good. My sister and I have been trying to figure it out for months but have found nothing."

" Then count yourself lucky," the girl muttered to herself but then clears her throat," Now, can you really get me out of here?"

I nodded, " Yeah, did he unbind you?"

" Yes, but I have a broken arm, so I guess he figures I won't be going anywhere," she replied.

" Did you break anything else?" I inquired.

" Don't think so. Just think I'm badly bruised."

" Good, that means you'll be able to make up the stairs," I said, trying to free my wrists from their binds. Guess he thought I would go somewhere with a broken leg, arm, and jaw. His common sense never ceases to amaze me ( note the sarcasm).

" Probably but what good will that do us?" she groaned, running a hand through her greasy hair.

" It will do us good because then my sister will be able to help. She's home since its a Saturday."

" How do we know we can trust her? She could be working with her father?"

I glared at her, " I know because I'm her best friend. I would trust her with my life. After all, just because you are related to someone evil doesn't make you evil."

" I wasn't insinuating that your sister is evil, I just don't want any surprises," she defended, holding up her arms in surrender.

I locate the pocket knife I keep a secret sown pocket in my dress and begin sawing at the rope.

" Anytime you wanna help, you know, so I get you out of here."

" Oh, of course. Sorry," she stammered and slowly stands up and walks over to my side.

" Do you see my knife? It's it the back of my hands. Saw the ropes off and I can lead you upstairs and get you to my sister." I instructed.

Without a word, she sawed off my twine rope bindings and helps me rise to my feet. I almost black out from the pain.

" Are you sure you can do this?" the girl asked, worry creasing her face.

I clenched my teeth, " It's not like I have a choice."

" I could always get her..." she trailed off but I shake my head.

" No, it's better off I ask. She isn't exactly one to mess with."

" Ok, lead the way...." she began but stopped, realizing she didn't know my name.

" Sorry," she blushed, "what's your name?"

I attempted a smile but it ended up a grimace " Coccinelle but most call me Coco. What's yours?"

" Lavender, but I prefer to be called Sage, which is my middle name," she says, cutting the last of the rope free.

Lavender Sage, I thought to myself. What an odd name but then again my name wasn't exactly run of the mill either. Lavender Sage did have a beautiful ring to it though.

" Nice to meet you, Sage, even under these circumstances," I replied, attempting to stretch out my hand without screaming in agony.

" You know, maybe we should shake hands another time," she suggested, staring at my red contorted face.

" Good idea." I breathed, slowly rising to my feet.

" Do you need help?" Lavender Sage inquired, warily watching me on my unsteady feet.

" I'm fine. Let's just get this over with." I grunted and take a huge step towards the stairs.

" You sure? You look like your about to faint!"

I glance back at her to see her barely standing on her own feet.

" Trust me, I'm fine. Plus, you're in no shape to help me anyway," I rasped and almost collapse on the floor.

" But..wait..." she pleaded, hobbling after me.

" What?" I snapped, slowly losing my patience. If we don't get out of here soon, Stepfather will be back and our window time to escape will close.

" I can help," she whispered.

" Yes, you can. By getting a move on." I replied, grabbing the edge of the banister.

" No, I mean, I can help us get up the stairs quicker!" she yelled, throwing her hands in the air.

" How?" I demand, leaning against the banister.

" I can't tell you but I know it'll work," she answered.

I scowled, " How can I know I can trust you?"

Lavender pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and looks straight into my eyes, " I can't give you proof that I am trustworthy but I give you my word, you can trust me."

For a few minutes, I studied her, taking in all the thin red scratches, the blue-purple tie dye bruisers, the pale sallow cheeks, and her tear-watered eyes.

Does she really look like she could hurt me? I asked myself. Probably not, I concluded.

Then, I nodded.

She smiled, " Ok now, close your eyes."

I closed my eyes obediently waiting for the next move.

" Wings Up!" she shouted and there is a sudden rush of warm air. In fact, thinking back on it, very similar to the feeling I got when I first turned into Ladybug. Maybe she was a Superhero as well? I pondered, rinsing out the shampoo in my hair.

" Can I look now?" I asked, tempted to peak at her.

" No, now hold onto my neck," she commands.

" What do you mean, hold on to your neck...." I protested but suddenly I was cut off by being lifted bridal style up the stairs.

" Where's your sister?" she asked, opening the door to the main floor.

" That would be me," a soft voice interrupted.

" Caressa?" I called, straining my head in the direction of the voice.

" Coco, what's happened to you and who's this?" she cried, running up to me and touching my cheek.

" Long story, that I will explain later but you need to get her out of here!" I replied.

" Ok, I'll get Freddy, but I am taking you both to the hospital first. You are both severely injured.

" Of course, thank you." Lavender gushed.

" Can I open my eyes yet?" I whined.

" No, give me a second," she answered and then mutters something incoherent.

" Wow, that was beautiful," my sister gasped.

" If you tell anyone..." she warned but Caressa cut her off.

" Your secret is safe with me, and you can open your eyes now Coco."

We got to the hospital about a half-hour later where we parted ways amicably to get our wounds treated. I don't know what lie Caressa fed the doctors for the extent of the damage but it seemed to work and they were on me instantly, poking and prodding me with needles. After a couple of weeks, I was sent home with only the crescent scar left curving around my belly button as the reminder of what happened.

I sigh, washing my body thoroughly and then turn the water off. I shiver at the loss of the hot water but quickly wrap myself in a towel and step out of the shower.

And that's when I hear his voice. A voice I would recognize anywhere:

Chat Noir's.

I swallow hard and begin to dry myself off, praying that he doesn't bite my head off.

After all, I don't need legs and arms to live but I do need my head.


	17. Because of Money

Song For This Chapter: 

Pricetag- Jessie J 

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I_-MWKy0jCA>

 

Chat Noir's Point of View

I plummet head first out the hospital window without thinking but luckily my common sense kicks in and I extend my staff to break my fall. I scowl at my rashness and use the momentum to propel me onto the roof of corporate law offices.

Usually, I am much more rational but ever since I met Coco, nothing has been the same. In fact, I feel like I'm fifteen again, jumping in to save the day in order to impress M'Lady.

And, gosh, she used to get so annoyed at me. When we were facing Stormy Weather, one of our first akumas, she even pulled me back hard by my tail ( a real tail might I add) and scolded me saying:

" Whoa, kitty kitty. You better think before you leap" I can even picture her pretty pink lips turned up in her usual smirk.

My heart squeezes at the memory and I mentally slap myself, " Get yourself together Agreste. You have a job to do."

Landing smoothly on my feet, I study the surrounding area, debating on which way to go. The city is now awake with the screeching of the blue city buses and the loud buzzing of people talking below holding a coffee from the Starbucks down the street.

My mouth waters at the thought of coffee but brush the thought away. I need to find Coco. I look left then right but then remember the camera showed her exiting out right near Lower East Side and began jumping building to building.

" Hello Mr.Noir!" an old homeless man shouts from his huddled spot by the grate.

" Hello Sir, can I get you anything?" I ask, studying the man's ripped flannel and greasy hair with pity.

He smiles but shakes his head, " No need. You probably have some savin to do!"

" And that person is you Mr...." I trail off...realizing I didn't even know the man's name.

" Mr. Damocles," the man finishes for me.

Huh, I thought to myself. This name sounds really familiar but I don't remember from where...

I shake my head to clear my thoughts and offer a hand, " Nice to meet you, Mr. Damocles. Now, I couldn't help but notice that you were sleeping on the grate, do you need a place to stay?"

The old man lowers his head and sighs " Yes... I just lost my job and my house was evicted."

I crouch down next to him, " I'm sorry to hear that. But you don't need to stay here sir. There are plenty of shelters nearby."

Mr. Damocles's eyes water with tears, " I tried going to the shelters but they are all full to the brim."

" Really?" I frown. That's odd, that doesn't usually happen.

" Yes. These are tough times Mr. Noir," the man answers.

" Indeed they are, "I agree and offer him a hand, " I'll have to see what I can do about that but for now, I'll take you to my place."

" Are you sure sir? You don't need to that.." the man trembles, his eyes as wide as saucers.

" I want to, Mr. Damocles. Now, please take my hand and I will take you there." I grin.

Mr. Damocles takes my hand and I lift him onto my back.

" Mr. Noir, there's no need to carry me," Mr. Damocles protests.

" We will get there faster though if I carry you," I say.

He sighs but gives in.

I extend my baton and set off again into the city, leaping from building to building.

The old man behind me stiffens and tightens his hold on my neck and I have to push down a chuckle. It reminds me of the first time I took Emma out cliff-diving. She was terrified, her green eyes about ready to pop out of her sockets and her knees shaking. I had to cross my legs in order not to pee myself from laughter.

" Wow, that makes me sound really sadistic," I think to myself.

" Yes, it really does," Plagg replies in the back of mind.

" Shut Up Plagg! No one asked you." I mind shout.

Plagg chuckles at me," You were the one who said it kid, not me."

I scowl but don't dignify that with a response.

" Jeez, kid..I'm only joking... Everyone is a little sadistic" Plagg apologizes.

I smile, " I'm not mad Plagg. I know your joking."

" Good because I was going to beat the crap outta ya if you didn't" Plagg snaps.

I shake my head but don't respond back.

Cars begin to line up bumper to bumper as we got closer to the center of the city, Times Square.

Mr. Damocles gasps, " You live in Times Square, Mr. Noir?"

" Yes..." I answer carefully but continue, " Is that a problem?"

You see, sometimes homeless people have problems with people who live in Manhattan and for understandable reasons. After all, you would have to be a millionaire to even get a small flat there.

And some people even go beyond that, buying huge mansions and building huge skyscrapers with the money ( too much in my opinion) they get for being someone who just happens to play soccer or poses right for pictures.

They see us as bathing in more riches that we will ever need while they struggle just to get the basic necessities of food, shelter, and water. They struggle to survive while we struggle to get the perfect shaped pool or the newest fashion.

Not all of us are like this ( as in arrogant and aloof) but many are and it's often why New York City is the number one city in crime.

It's because some homeless people have become so angry and desperate that they will do absolutely anything ( do drugs, fight, even kill) to get money.

Of course, that's only some homeless people, others are quite peaceful and just sit at the edge of the sidewalk and patiently beg for spare change.

Ever since I came to New York, I've been trying to fix the homelessness issue by being on the council's case and building soup kitchens and rehabilitation centers but I still feel its not enough. In fact, now that I think about it, I never feel like I'm enough period.

" Well....that got dark fast," Plagg says in the back of my mind.

" Sorry, Plagg," I reply half-heartedly but try to focus on something more... uplifting.

" Mr. Noir sir? Did you hear me?" Mr. Damocles shouts over the traffic.

" No, sorry sir! What did you say?" I shout.

" That it wasn't a problem Sir! I didn't mean offense! I so grateful you agreed to take me...." He rambles

I chuckle, " I'm not offended, Relax, old man!"

" Who are you calling old man!" Mr. Damocles shouts.

I laugh harder and then swing across the street using the power lines.

" Uh....isn't this dangerous?" he asks.

I grin, " You ask that now?"

" Ummm.....well...is it?" he whimpers, glancing down at the now tiny yellow taxis and bright billboards.

I gasp in mock horror, " Do you think I would put you in such danger?"

He laughed but the fear didn't leave his eyes until I landed on the building's roof.

" Alright, we're here," I say and lower him to the ground.

" Here? Are you trying to play tricks on me, Mr. Noir?" Mr. Damocles says, his thick gray eyebrows furrowed.

" Of course not, Mr. Damocles. Have a little faith, will ya?" I walk over to what seems to be an electrical panel and push a button. The panel glows neon green then sinks to the ground before releasing a giant enclosed glass patio.

" How...How..." Mr. Damocles blubbers...his eyes about ready to pop out of his sockets

I open the middle door and held it out to him, " Don't ask stupid questions."

Mr. Damocles opens and closes his mouth like a fish but then walks inside the glass patio.

Originally built for M'Lady, the glass patio was the designer workspace that I made for her on our first wedding anniversary. She was a well-known fashion designer but she worked in this abandoned warehouse in the bad part of town and it was terrible.

Not only for her work ( it barely had the necessities) but for her safety. I created this space for her, at the very top of our penthouse.

The exterior was created of bullet-proof glass but backed into the exposed brick wall of our house. Light pink curtains with red cherry-blossoms stretched across those windows and a dry-wall ceiling closed in on the top ( in suit in-case she fell asleep while working, which she did, many times) with floating white lanterns and red lanterns.

On one side of the room, there was a full-blown kitchen with a stove and fridge and a big light pink chaise and bean-bags, red blankets and pillows, all stashed near a white wooden desk and floating flat screen.

Both sides of the rooms are lined with faceless cloth manikins dressed with articles of clothes from coats, scarves, hats, to shirts, skirts, pants, dresses, even ballgowns) all different stages of being finished.

After she passed, I just didn't have the heart to take her projects down. I think part of me hoped that if I kept them there, maybe she would come back. Alas, there was no such luck for my broken heart.

In the middle of the room, there were white long wooden tables scattered with colored pencil sketches scrawled cursive writing, notes most likely of certain measurements and design elements as well as sewing needle and spools of thread, all colors of the rainbow.

At the other side of the room, there was state of the art sewing machines and sheets of the finest fabrics, from silks to linen to wool to cotton. Only the best for my Lady. That's my motto. Or, it was my motto.


	18. Remember

Song For This Chapter: 

Remember Me ( Lullaby) - From Disney's Coco 

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I_-MWKy0jCA>

 

Chat Noir's Point of View 

 

I remember My Lady's face when I presented her the room. Her dark blue eyes shimmered with tears reminding him of the dark sky full with stars and a wide smile covered her face.

" Do you like it?" I asked her, nervous that it was not up to her standards.

She turned and gave me a tight hug, "It's perfect."

" Really?" I repeated.

" Really, I love it." she laughed, " But I do have something to tell you."

I began to panic at this, " What? Is there something wrong! Is it Hawk Moth?"

My Lady instantly shook her head, " It has nothing to do with Hawk Moth or anything bad, Stop being a worry wart, Adrien."

I sighed in relief, pulling her closer to my chest, " Sorry, I can't help myself. What is it, Mari?"

" Adrien," she smiled, " I'm pregnant."

For a second, I thought the floor was going to fall beneath me but then I realized I was still standing there and a wide grin covered my face.

"You're pregnant?"

" Yes!"

I twirled her around and she giggled like a little kid.

" You're happy?" Mari said.

" I'm happy," I replied.

I smile at the bittersweet memories and lower Mr. Damocles to the floor.

" Wow, This is so beautiful Mr. Noir," he says, his eyes bulging of out his skull.

" Thank you. Now just wait here sir and I'll get my assistant to help you" I tell him and then walk across the room to another panel near the door. But this one looks more like a mini I-pad.

I press my hand against the screen and a neon green line traces my hand before a voice comes through the speaker, " Hello Mr. Noir, How can I help you?"

" Could be better Mr. Douglas," I smirked, liking how he called me Mr. Noir rather Mr. Agreste. I almost never came home with guests that did not know my other identity so it would naturally make sense for Mr. Douglas to slip up but he didn't. But I wasn't surprised. He was one smart guy. "Can you please come to escort Mr. Damocles to one of the guest rooms and give him change clothes and something to eat,"

" Of course Sir. I'll be right up to help," he responds and the speaker clicks off.

" Mr. Douglas will be assisting you while you're here. Unfortunately, things have been busy around here, so I most likely won't be home. However, if you need me, just call."

I hand Mr. Damocles a black card with a neon green number on it.

" Thank you, Mr. Noir, I am forever grateful," he smiles, revealing some crooked teeth.

I smile, " Do not mention it, Good Sir!"

My baton starts to beep and I flip it open to the screen part and see Queen Bee.

" Any luck?" I ask.

" Yeah, I found her Chat!" she shrieks and I wince, to cover my ears.

" Where?"

" She's at Signora's. Signora found her injured. She was in a gunfight!"

" What!" I yell, " I'm on my way!"

" Wait, Chat," she begins but I cut off the call and extend my baton.

The elevator dings and doors open to reveal Mr. Douglas dressed in his pressed black suit and white blouse with a green tie.

" Mr. Douglas, Just on time!"

" Mr. Noir," he greets and then looks behind me at Mr. Damocles.

I then introduce them with a gesture of my hand, " Mr. Damocles, meet Mr. Douglas. Mr. Douglas, this is Mr. Damocles."

Mr. Douglas walked over and shook Mr. Damocles's hand, " Please follow me, Sir."

Mr. Damocles smiled and grunted "likewise" and then they walked onto the elevator.

" I must go now," I tell them.

" Then go," said Mr. Damocles, " I can't expect a Superhero to wait and foot on me."

My baton stretches to the class ceiling and reaches the invisible trap door. It glows green but then the glass disappears and I launch myself through the ceiling, into the smokey air of New York City.


	19. Quetzalcoatl

Song For This Chapter: 

I'd Do Anything - Simple Plan 

[https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=146&v=ZP5CYHdhWIc](https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=146&v=ZP5CYHdhWIc)

Chat Noir's Point of View 

 

Signora's place is an old colonial house that her parent's converted in the early 90s into a photography studio for her father. After they passed away though, Signora converted it into an antique shop and called it  _Quetzalcoatl._  My Lady used to love it there with all the vintage costumes and jewelry. In fact, many of her own designs were inspired by pieces found in Signora's shop. After her passing, however, I could not bring myself into the Store and Signora honored that by coming to my house or meeting me at a restaurant or coffee shop. 

Today is the first day in many years that I have come to her shop and almost nothing has changed.  The same magenta colored sign with Gold lettering hangs above the door with the same magenta curtains and gold beading. The same objects were displayed in the front windows: an early 18th-century camera, early colonial Chinese porcelain wine cup, a suit of medieval armor, a gold renaissance era clock, among mannequins dressed in authentic vintage clothes from the 1920's silver flapper dress to 1980's wide shoulder black blazers.  

I walk straight by the display windows to the front wooden door and yank it open. A tinkling bell goes off above my head and I hear a  gravel voice shout, " I'll be right with you in a second." I close the door behind me and look around the store.  In the front to the right, there was a dark oak desk with golden flecked floral designs a few feet from the window that held a rusty cash register with a handwritten sign saying _Cash Only._  

A stack of leather-bound books is piled neatly on the other side of the desk while a bin of old postcards and photographs sits in the middle. The first one I see and recognize it immediately as Pyramids of Giza despite its brown-stained edges. I scan through a couple of other pictures of famous monuments like Mount Rushmore to The Great Wall of China as well as some random old photos of normal people posing for portraits, there faces all glum looking, as they had just sucked on a lemon.  

I couldn't help but laugh at one photo of a baby wearing the 18th-century tuxedo. His hair was slicked straight to the side and he was standing on top of a wooden chair. The funny part though was the baby's face. It was round and chubby and his eyebrows were arched in surprise giving him a " What the Fuck" kind of face. To give you a better image, think of PresidentTrump giving a " " What the Fuck" kind of face but on a baby.  In fact, if I didn't know this picture was over a hundred years old, I would probably think the baby was Trump as a child. The baby's face plus his resemblance to President Trump made the picture extremely amusing. 

       " I found that picture at a yard sale in Upstate New York," a familiar raspy voice says. 

      " Really?" I ask, turning around to see Signora. 

      " Yes, a funny picture isn't it?"

       I grin, " Yes, definitely funny."  

  Signora smiles back, creating two crater sized dimples in her rosy cheeks.  Signora then twists a  red-orange curl with her finger and tucks it in with the rest of her hair in a high bun. 

      " I'm assuming that you are not here to look at pictures though, are you?" 

     " You assume right," I sigh, Coco's innocent face flashes behind my eyes. How could I have forgotten, I scold myself. 

_" You didn't forget, kid. Give yourself a break," Plagg says._

_" But I did, I was looking at that picture..." I protest but Plagg cuts me off,_

_" Adrien, you were literally just looking at a photo for two minutes. You did not forget about her. Not every thought you have must be about her."_

_I internally groan but respond, " I guess you are right."_

_" You bet your ass I'm right," Plag snaps back._

      I am about to retort when Signora interrupts me, " You're here for Coco right?" 

        " Yes, where is she? Is she all right? Can I see her?" I ramble, my heart starting to constrict at the possibilities. 

       " Whoah, Whoah, Whoah Chat. Slow down," Signora laughs but I growl at her, my eyes narrowing into slits. 

       " Where is she? Is she hurt?" I demand again. 

        Signora shakes her head, " She's fine Chat Noir. She is just injured because a couple of bullets  hit her and she took a hard fall." 

         I grind my teeth in anger and feel my claws extend. I will tear that person to pieces who did this to her. 

        " Chat Noir, calm down. I just told you Coco is fine," Signora snaps.

         I close my eyes and take a deep breath," Just please take me to her."

   Signora sighs but gestures with a pale freckled arm to follow, her brown buckle boots clanking against the old hardwood floor. I fall behind her and notice a giant smudge of bright purple paint on her jeans. Most likely from one of her new carpentry job she's working on.   

Most women would be horrified to find out that there is a giant smudge of purple paint on their jeans but Signora is not most women. If you didn't know her you probably think her rather odd since she looked like she just walked out of the 1970s with her bell-bottomed jeans and bright blue ascot hung around her neck. Her frizzy fire colored  hair nor her towering height helped her case in being  quote on quote " normal." Don't get me wrong, Signora is a beautiful woman and a great friend but she is, no doubts about it, odd. We reach the back of the store and head towards a bright yellow door with a pink flower sign that says _Employees and Guests Only_.

          " Nice door," I comment, " Is it new?" 

        " Nah," she says, jiggling the key into the lock, " I painted it five years ago. You just haven't been here." 

         I frown, " I'm sorry." 

        Signora shrugs and swings the door wide open," Don't worry about it, now come on in." 

I walk inside into a small hallway lined with photographs. Most likely her father's. Until his death a few years ago, Signora's father was a photographer, most well- known for his portraits of nature. 

         I stop to look at a vivid picture of an owl with  neon yellow eyes and smile, " Is that Mini?" 

    Signora looks at me in confusion but then follows my gaze to the picture in question. 

     " Yes," she giggles, " My father took her by surprise since it was daytime but lucky my father did not find out she was not a real owl." 

 You see, Mini is like Plagg, she's a kwami. The only difference is that Plagg looks like a black cat with lime-colored eyes while Mini looked like speckled brown and white owl with yellow eyes. 

        I raise an eyebrow at that, " How did Mini get away with that?" 

       " Well, look at her," Signora shouts, " She looks like a real owl!" 

       " Hhmm...I guess you're right." 

We walk a few more feet when suddenly a door slams open and outcomes Coco. Instantly, my heartbeat speeds up and it takes all my willpower not run and hug her to my chest. 

_What is wrong with me, I scold myself. How could I think of anyone but my lady?_

_" There's nothing wrong with you Adrien," Plagg says._

_I sigh, " You only think that because you are my kwami."_

_" No," Plagg disagrees, " I think that because I know you, Adrien."_

I shake my head but focus back on Coco, whose ink hair spun with silver drips down her shoulders and onto a much too large red blouse and pair of jeans that drag on the floor due to her short stature.  Yet, despite the too-big clothes, Coco is still beautiful. 

_Dammit, I curse.  I can't be thinking like this. What about M'Lady?_

        Coco's violet eyes widen in fear, " Mr. Noir, I can explain. Please don't be angry. I..." 

She continues to ramble while I stare at her but then it dawns on me; I must have cursed out loud. 

_Dammit._

" Mr. Noir," she cries, " Please don't be mad..." 

      I raise my hand to stop her, " It's ok Coco, I'm not mad.  I should not have held you against your will and scared you.  Are you alright?" 

      She looks up at me in confusion but then nods. 

       I smile in relief, " Good, that's all I need to know now. But we do need to talk." 

       She blushes, her cheeks becoming rosier, but nods again in agreement. 

       " Good!" Signora claps, " Now let's go sit in the living room and have some refreshments!" 

         And so, we continue down the hallway to the living room. 

 


	20. Character Pictures

Song For Looking At Characters: 

Superheroes- The Script 

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0y7ygEDRpSo>

Hey Everyone, 

Hope you are enjoying the story so far, again let me know if you have any questions or would like to swap stories. I would love to read other people's work. 

Anyways, I thought it would be nice to compile some pictures of what I imagine the characters to look like. These by no means are definite set stone images of the characters but sometimes I think visuals help. If not, just keep imaging them the way you want to! 

Let me know what you think! 

 

S. R. Willows 

 

                                        **Coccinelle Sauveur/ New Ladybug**

   

 

 

                                    **Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir**

 

 

 

                            **Marinette Dupain Cheng Agreste/ Original Ladybug**

 

 

                                                                     

**Emma Agreste / Queen Bee**

 

 

 

                                                            **The Phantom/ Louis**

 

 

 

                                                                                                  

                                                  **Madame Chloe Bourgeois Dábel**

 

 

                                      **Mayor Corbin D'Abel**

 

 

 

                                                  **Signora**

 

 

 

                                                              **Joy**

 

 

 

                                        **Lavender Sage**

 

 

 


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